


Stupid (About That) Girl

by Alsike



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Cursed Storybrooke, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, High School Reunions, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Las Vegas Wedding, Look at Those Tags!, Poor Life Choices, Suicide Attempt, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alsike/pseuds/Alsike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruby Lucas' life hasn't turned out like she planned it. Still working at her Granny's diner, still in Storybrooke, dating the boy next door, it feels like high school never ended, except for one thing. Her best friend, the one person she never imagined living her life without, is gone. And she knows it's her fault. </p><p>Ruby is desperate for a change, and when her boyfriend proposes, she accepts, willing to risk anything for something new in her life. But when Mary-Margaret pays for a bachelorette weekend in Vegas, the series of unexpected events that follow, starting with a chance meeting and culminating in a disastrous high school reunion, results in secrets revealed, lies told, desperate acts committed, and love found and betrayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Long long ago, there was an Accidental Marriage prompt for Swan Queen Week. Somehow, while writing, and rewriting, this goofy Vegas-Marriage trope fic morphed into a story about the terrible moment when you realize that you're an adult and have failed at becoming the kind of adult you wanted to be. But it's still a Vegas trope fic at heart! 
> 
> I hope.

Sometimes when Ruby woke up, she thought she was sixteen again. It was like the intervening years had been a dream, waking up in her old bedroom for a shift at the diner with a warm body pressed up against hers. She'd been happy, even bleary from a hangover or staying up too late talking, someone else's hair in her mouth, sweaty from the extra body heat, and nose stinging from breathing in too much perfume all night. She'd been happy, because she'd been home.

But though the bedroom was the same, and the diner was the same, it wasn’t the same body who’d been there when she was sixteen. This one was harder and heavier, less likely to plant a knee or an elbow in her stomach, but more likely to shuffle her off the side. He smelled like musk rather than perfume. And Peter still snuck out, even though he’d been her boyfriend for over a year now. Granny made him nervous.

“Going already?” Peter mumbled into her hair. His arm wrapped around her as she tried to get out of bed and she fought against him.

“I’ve got to get to work.”

“It's your birthday.” Peter protested.

Ruby escaped and grabbed her underwear. “And it's my grandmother who made the schedule. I don't have a commute, so opening is easy, right?”

"Ugh, you've got to move out."

"Where to?" Ruby shook her head. "No rent, right? Can't beat that." She hiked up her skirt and searched under the bed for her apron. When she lifted her head, Peter had moved, his feet dropping down to the floor, his arm reaching for his jeans. Behind his two-day stubble she noticed the slight twitch of tension in the muscle of his jaw. It usually meant he was embarrassed. When he was a kid it had been the prelude to a tantrum, beating his fists on the floor. In high school it had been the prelude to a fight, beating his fists on another guy. But they'd all grown up since high school.

"You could move in with me," he said.

"You and your _parents_?" Ruby rolled her eyes and turned toward the mirror to figure out what to do with her hair.

"I was thinking about moving out too."

Ruby paused, her hands tangled up in her hair, and looked back at him. "Yeah?"

"And I was thinking we might want to look for a place together. And maybe..." He'd pulled something out of his jeans pocket. "Maybe make it official?"

He flipped open the box.

* * *

_Yesterday_

The diner was sliding into lunch rush when Emma sauntered in. “Hey you. Your birthday's tomorrow right?”

“Oh, please don’t mention that,” Ruby groaned. She didn’t need the reminder.

Emma grinned. "Drinks right, Rabbit Hole, at 8? We've gotta drink until we forget how _old_ we are, right?"

"Definitely." Ruby almost smiled, until a little sick twist turned her stomach. She loved Emma, she loved Mary Margaret. She had friends. But they were just friends. They weren't best friends. They weren't people you could tell anything to, talk for hours about nothing and everything, lean in for a hug whenever you needed it. It was her birthday, twenty-seven. It wasn't a special birthday. And yet, once she'd had a friend who'd made even the boring birthdays special.

Emma sank into her stool and groaned, rubbing her lower back. "At least you have a serious boyfriend and stuff. I’m older than you and six times as single.”

Ruby shook her head, not trying to follow Emma’s math. There was a reason she always checked the change on Emma's table before she left the diner. “You’re not the one working at your grandma’s diner."

Emma shrugged. “Nothing wrong with taking over the family business.”

Ruby looked away. Of course not. But it wasn’t what she’d wanted. She had a real job once, nothing spectacular, but she'd been on the line, in a real restaurant kitchen. She had her chance to work hard, work her way up. She'd blown it. “Could be better though. Or at least… different.”

“You really hate it here?” Emma asked.

"No!" Ruby looked around at the diner, at the small town that was all she'd ever really had. She'd been happy here once. It wasn't the place that left her with that low level of sadness. It was the ghosts, of people, of dreams she used to have. Days like today, birthdays, holidays, they made her feet itch. She wasn't supposed to still be here. Everything wasn't supposed to still be the same. How was she supposed to live like this? Something had to change. She needed _something_ to change. "It's just that being here reminds me of all the things I used to want, the things I'd planned on having by now, but don't."

Emma shrugged. “I mean, I can’t say the boyfriend pickings are great, for me, since you’ve got the only cute one, but it is a place to settle down. And we’re getting to be old enough to be thinking about settling down, aren’t we?”

She wasn’t wrong. But how could Ruby settle, when it felt like a huge piece of her life was missing, and all she wanted to do was go out in search of it.

But perhaps that was why it was called settling.

* * *

“Um,” Peter said. “So, Will you marry me?”

Inside the small velvet box was a ring, a ring with a diamond on it.

Ruby stepped back. "What?"

Peter's face, under it's scruff, reddened. The jaw twitch was back, even more fiercely. "What? Is it... is this really that much of a surprise?"

He stood up, pushing the box toward her. "Ruby… I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. And I know we haven't been together all that long. But for me, I just… I know, that you’re what I want. You’ve always been everything I want.”

Ruby stepped back again and hit the dresser. "You're naked," she said. It was a stupid thing to say. But all of this seemed stupid. Fine, they'd been dating for almost two years, moving out made sense, she wasn't planning on leaving him any time soon. But everything just felt upside down. What she was feeling was supposed to make _sense_. She should be joyously happy, or awkwardly resistant, or, maybe laugh in his face? But not just _confused._

“Do you need time to think about it?” His brows were furrowed and he looked angry.

She'd embarrassed him. Of course he was angry.

But how could he think she was ready for this? Were they really in such different places that he was ready to make a decision that shaped his own future, and she was just treading water, hoping someone would throw her a rope eventually?

But this was her problem, wasn't it? She let her life go along, not making plans, not changing anything, not taking chances, and then she was upset about spending four years doing _nothing_. This wasn't nothing. This was a chance, a risk, a plan, a future.

Her hand rose up and pressed over her mouth, staring at him. She hadn't thought about a future like that. They'd get a house. They'd keep working. She'd take over for Granny eventually. He'd take over for his dad in the shop. They'd do what? Have kids? That's what happened, right? People got married and then slam-bang the girl was pregnant. And, god knew, that was something different.

Was it something she wanted?

But how do you ever know if it's something you want until you try it and see?

Peter's knuckles were white as they clenched around the box. Every muscle was tense. If she laughed in his face he'd probably punch the dresser. She was kind of terrified she was going to laugh in his face on accident.

It was something new. The itch in the bottoms of her feet said that it was _time_ for something new. So why not?

“Yeah,” she said, then flushed slightly. “Yes, I mean yes.”

Peter's mouth opened, and then he swallowed, the tension leaving his body all in one go. He smiled. “Honestly, I’m good with yeah.”

She stepped in, the kiss was a little awkward, but it felt fresh, different this time. The thrill that ran through her was real. She felt him harden against her. He pulled back, fumbling with the ring to put it on her finger, his erection a comical interloper. The ring slid home and Ruby felt a constriction like someone had grabbed her by the diaphragm and wouldn't let her breathe properly. But she knew what to do to break tension. She reached out and pushed against his shoulders, sending him back down onto the bed.

"Huh?"

She shucked her underwear, and smiled at his wide eyes. Then she knelt over him and stroked him, feeling him harden. His stomach convulsed. "Let's celebrate."

"What? Don't you have to work?"

"Granny will understand." She squeezed. He gaped. "I want sex. And if you're going to marry me you'd better get used to giving it to me when I want it."

Peter grinned and reached out, pushing her head down so her lips were nearly against his dick. "I can do that," he said.

And she took him in her mouth.

There was a little shame in it, in using the easy distraction of sex to not think about whether this was the right decision, or if she'd just made a promise that she couldn't back out of, even if it ended up being the worst decision of her life.

* * *

“Granny.” Ruby, flushed and happy, hurried down the stairs and into the diner's kitchen.

Her grandmother gave her a look. “You're late.”

"I'm sorry. It's my _birthday_ , and Peter just—”

“You said you'd cover for Katrina not two days ago.” Granny scowled. “If you're going to be here, working for me, be _here_. If you want to head out into the wild blue yonder, fine. But tell me, so I can hire someone who won't just take a morning off whenever she feels like it.”

Ruby's orgasm-induced good mood dissipated and turned angry. This was supposed to be an announcement. It was supposed to be important. “I'm getting married,” she said. “Peter asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

Granny's face didn't change. If anything it grew harder and a little more dour. “You’ve always been a stupid girl,” she said.

Ruby froze. “What?”

Granny just shook her head and turned to flip the pancakes. “Now you’re turning into a stupid woman.”

"Granny!" Ruby's stomach felt like a rock, dropping heavily into her guts. "What do you mean?"

"Don't stand there gabbing. We've got customers, and my back's sore from having to open by myself!"

Ruby's nails dug into her hands as she snagged her orders book and headed out into the dining area. What if this really was a terrible idea?

* * *

“Oh my god!” Mary Margaret screamed her ear off and Ruby cringed. “You’re getting married!”

Ruby sighed and took the Long Island iced tea that Emma passed her. At least someone was properly excited. Her own excitement had died after her Granny's pronouncement. What was so wrong with the idea? What was stupid about it?

“Congrats girl,” Emma said. “We’re getting blitzed tonight.”

Ruby let the liquor wash over her, letting the others buy her both birthday and congratulation drinks and bring them over. She could see Killian at the bar, and didn’t really want to deal with him. There were only a few people she knew from high school who hadn’t left. And Killian was the only guy she’d slept with in high school who hadn’t left. Somehow, hearing what he’d say at the news of her engagement was not high on her list of things to do.

Emma was taking it easy, not Dding, because they’d all walked, but still, being the responsible one. Sheriff’s Deputies usually got even drunker and more rowdy than anyone else, but Emma was an exception to the rule, at least tonight.

It was Mary Margaret who got the drunkest quickest. She curled up on Ruby’s shoulder, drawling a whiny congratulation into her ear. “Rub–y. I’m so jea–lous. Peter’s wonderful.” She sighed, then searched around for her drink and took another swig. “I always wondered why you never dated him in high school. Too tame for you with Lacey around, I guess.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m so glad she’s gone.”

Ruby froze. She’d said the name. Emma looked over, her eyes just a little wide. That was a bad sign. That meant that she’d talked sometime when she was drunk. Ruby shoved out her chair and headed over to the bar. A young girl had replaced Killian as bartender, thankfully.”Hey,” she said. “Give me a couple of shots.”

Emma sidled up beside her. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

“You miss her, don’t you?”

Ruby went tense. She looked at Emma. “I don’t know who you're talking about.”

“I know you don’t say anything unless you’re drunk,” Emma said. “But you do, don’t you? Especially right now?”

Ruby swallowed hard. There was a reason she didn’t talk about it unless she was drunk. There was too much bitterness and jealously and self-hatred there to face it sober. She was drunk now, but she could be drunker. She needed to be drunker. “Maybe I miss her,” Ruby said and downed a shot. “Maybe I just wish I hadn’t ruined things, so when she got out, she might have taken me along.”

“You still feel that way? Even now you’re marrying Peter.”

Ruby slammed back the third shot and looked away. “She was my best friend, and I fucked everything up. Even if I still ended up like this, I wish…. I wish she were at my side. I wish I could just call her. I don’t know what she’d say. I don’t know anything anymore. But yeah, I miss her. Don’t you always miss the people you love?”

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

To be honest, Ruby hadn’t wanted to go to Vegas for her bachelorette party. There were bars in Storybrooke, and if they were desperate for a strip club, there were clubs in Boston.

"Vegas, yeah?" Peter had said when he heard the news. He squeezed her arm. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Ruby tried not to let her flinch show. "It's just a bit of fun," she said. "Mary Margaret isn't going to hire hookers or anything." She offered a grin, but didn't feel it. He seemed uncomfortable with her going out of sight, as if outside of Storybrooke anything could happen. Or, perhaps, outside of his watchful gaze she'd go back to her old ways, drinking and partying and sleeping around. He still hadn’t quite gotten over his hurt at her ignoring him all through high school.

Ruby kissed him and smiled. “You’re going to have to trust me sometime,” she said. “You know the only man I want is you.”

He’d grinned at her, dumbly happy at her words. She wanted him to get used to this, get used to her. Fine, she’d been a bit of a wolf in high school. She’d slept around and done more stupid things than she could count. But he was her fiancé now. She shouldn't have to work so hard any more to make him trust her. He should know that when she made a promise, it was a _promise_. Vegas wasn't going to change that.

Mary Margaret had been adamant, and Granny just shook her head at Ruby and told her to go. “Live it up a bit,” she said. “Get out of here while you have a chance, cuz God knows your boy isn’t going anywhere. And, get that girl laid if you can,” tipping her head at Mary Margaret. “She’s the one who needs it.”

It was the first approval her grandmother had given her for the whole scheme, so Ruby gave in. She'd thought Granny would get over her doubt when she realized they were actually making a mature decision. She'd seen Ruby and Peter sitting together going over their finances and looking at houses. They'd decided to keep things frugal for the wedding itself, go to the courthouse rather than the church, forgo a honeymoon until they were more settled. But even then, Granny didn't come around. Finally Ruby figured it out. It was about her mother. Anita had chosen a home and a family, had a baby, and then suddenly decided that it wasn't for her, and taken off. Ruby wasn't going to do that, though, she wasn't going to suddenly bail, leaving her Granny with another baby, holding the strings.

At least she hoped not.

So Ruby had kissed her fiancé goodbye at the airport, and gotten on the JetBlue flight to Vegas with Mary Margaret on her left and Emma on her right.

When Mary Margaret shilled out for champagne, Emma caught Ruby’s eyes and shook her head slightly, stopping her protests. There was one person who really needed fun here, and, well, they might as well let her have her head. Being along for the ride would be fun enough. And if Mary Margaret wanted to pay, well, neither of them would complain.

Ruby leaned back into her seat and fingered the worn scrap of thread she still wore around her wrist. It had been a friendship bracelet once. Now it was a few knots and enough new pieces of string that the amount of the original left was so little that she wondered if it counted as the same bracelet. But she’d made a promise, and she kept her promises.

Mary Margaret leaned into Ruby and sighed. “It’s so romantic,” she said.

Ruby stiffened, dropping the bracelet like it burned. “What?”

Mary Margaret gave her a look. It was a rather drunk look. She really was a lightweight. “Peter’s so handsome, and you’re gorgeous, and he _loves_ you. He’s loved you for _ever_.”

Emma met her eyes and made a face.

Ruby grimaced back. At least Emma had no illusions about romance, which, when you were in the first flush of love was unpleasant, but tangled up in the practical problems of wedding planning was a huge relief.

Ruby patted Mary Margaret’s arm. “Yeah, we’ve been dating for more than a _year_. That’s totally forever.”

Mary Margaret frowned. “But you were childhood sweethearts.”

Ruby smiled slightly. “We’ve been friends since we were children. I wouldn’t say _sweethearts_.”

Peter had grown up in the house down the lane, and they’d played together reasonably frequently. He was a year older, in the same class as Mary Margaret, but they’d been on the same little league team and were always invited to each other's birthday parties, but friends as kids was not the same as sweethearts. They hadn’t connected until after college, when they’d both been back in Storybrooke, learning to be adults in a place where they were still seen as kids.

“Petey-boy must have a really big dick to tame a wolf like you,” Killian had said, when she'd turned him down for the last time. But he really didn't understand. If all Ruby wanted was to get fucked against the wall of the alley around back of the Rabbit Hole, hooking up with Killian would have been enough. But she was over sex for sex's sake. She wanted more than that.

The best part about being with Peter was the affection. She hadn’t had a relationship where it was so easy to touch and be touched since high school. Emma and Mary Margaret were great, but they didn’t snuggle up to her on benches or crawl through her window and into her bed unexpectedly. She’d missed that. She liked the way Peter always kept an arm around her, even the way he half sprawled over her while they were asleep. The sex was good, but Ruby had had a lot of sex and had learned that incredible sex did _not_ make up for not being able to stand the person.

“Still romantic,” Mary Margaret said, sadly. She turned to Emma. “Isn’t it? Don’t you want that too?”

Emma smiled. “Can’t say I’m not jealous,” she said.

“See!” Mary Margaret said, pointing at her. “We just want love. We _deserve_ love! We deserve it _before_ our ten year high school reunion.” And then she started to cry. Ruby looked at Emma and they both sighed.

“Lets get her laid,” Emma said. Ruby nodded.

* * *

The Chippendales were a hit with Mary Margaret. She had moved on from screaming and cheering to chatting up a blond blue-eyed waiter, who had his shirt off, but was a little too skinny to be on stage. Emma was on her third beer and stack of singles and seemed to be enjoying herself. Ruby was tired and bored. Male strippers were fine, in a glossy, greased up sort of way, but Ruby actually found it a little offensive. They all looked healthy and cocky and well paid, and Ruby knew that that wasn’t the norm for women. You couldn’t see the men’s rib cages. And you didn’t get the weird vibe of ownership, where when women pulled away from overreaching male customers, they’d get cussed at or dismissed. Grabby women customers were put in their place with a ‘no, no, girls’ and just giggled in response, accepting it. The women were objects. The men were idols. It made Ruby sick.

Mary Margaret and Emma were busy. Ruby slipped out.

In the alley she enjoyed the way a hot day in the desert had turned into a cold night. But it was a little odd to just be lurking there. She fumbled in her pockets before remembering that she hadn’t had a cigarette in three years.

“Forgot your smokes?”

The voice was impossibly familiar. Ruby whirled. There was a girl there, coming up behind her, four-inch heels and a thigh-length trenchcoat. The streetlight lit her face. Smokey dark eye makeup around crystal eyes, a smile that was never without a touch of sarcasm, an easy sway to her hips, casually confident as she sauntered down the alley.

She was a ghost.

“L-lacey?”

The girl froze, her eyes widening. “What?”

There was no doubt about it.

The girl seemed to realize the same thing. Her eyes fixed on Ruby’s face and her expression changed from surprise to astonishment. “Ruby? Ruby _Goddamn_ _Fucking_ Lucas? Is that _you_?” She shrieked and threw her arms around Ruby’s neck. “It’s you! I can’t believe it’s really you!”

For a moment, Ruby couldn't move at all. This didn't feel real. It couldn't be real. But the scent enveloped her, the utter familiarity of the touch, couldn't be denied. It was _Lacey_.

Ruby squeezed her back just as tight. How could she not? Her hands found warm familiar places on her back and on her hip. “Lacey Isabelle French,” Ruby murmured in her ear. “What the hell are you doing in Vegas?”

“What are _you_ doing in the back alley of a strip club? Jesus Christ.”

Lacey was still clinging to her, burying herself into her, like she always had, her cloud of perfume so strong Ruby thought she might choke on it. But Ruby held her back just as tight, and wasn’t planning on letting her go any time soon.

Her _best_ friend. No one had expected them to be friends, the orphaned waitress and the daughter of the richest man in town. But they’d been inseparable, until the night before Lacey left for UCLA, when there had been liquor and bad decisions, and for months, Ruby had never quite managed to just pick up the phone and call her. Because then they’d have to _talk_ about it.

And finally, when she’d tried, Lacey had disappeared, changed her phone number, dropped out of school, and just _gone_.

But now Lacey was here, looking at her with that same mischievous light in her eyes. It felt like nothing had changed. Like they were still the kids who pranked boys for slighting them, who slept in the same bed nearly every night, who laughed at each other for puking, but held each other’s hair back. It felt like being high. Better.

“Clearly, you could be making your living as an underpriced call-girl, but I think I would have run into you sooner,” Lacey sassed, stepping back but keeping their arms intertwined, hands cupped over her elbows, not letting her go. She felt like an anchor, keeping Ruby safely in harbor. She hadn’t felt like that in forever and she couldn’t help the stupid grin on her face.

“I’m here for the weekend,” Ruby replied, laughing. “Bachelorette bullshit, you know.”

Lacey’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “ _You’re_ not getting married, are you? Because I know I’ve been out of touch, but if I’m not right at your side, like we _promised_ , I will never forgive you.” Lacey gave her a blue-eyed glare, made fiercer by the excess of eyeliner.

Ruby felt her cheeks get hot. “You remember that.”

“We weren’t _that_ drunk.” Lacey offered a fist and they bumped knuckles. “You’re my bestie.”

But what should she say? Could she tell Lacey that it _was_ her wedding? That she was getting married in less than a week? She’d have to talk about Peter. She’d have to deal with Lacey’s fierce disapproval of every guy she’d ever dated, and she didn’t know if she had a good answer for all the questions she'd get. But she didn’t want Lacey _not_ to interrogate her. Because then it would be all too clear that things had changed.

“You will be right on my hip,” Ruby said. “There’s no getting out of it now that I’ve found you again.”

Lacey threw herself at Ruby again. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Ruby held her, but not as fiercely, not now that she’d lied, or at least glossed over the truth.

“So, strip club?” Lacey asked, making a face.

“It was so boring. I had to escape. But Mary Margaret really needs to get boned, so I couldn’t pull her out of it.”

“Wait.” Lacey frowned at her. “Mary Margaret? That mousy chick a year ahead of us?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said. “She’s all right. Needs loosening up. But hey, lo strip club.”

Lacey laughed. “Good on you. Saving the world from boredom, one miss priss at a time.”

“What about you? What are you doing in Vegas?”

Lacey flushed slightly and looked away. “Oh, I’m not interesting.”

Ruby squeezed her arms. “You kind of are.”

“Well,” Lacey tossed her head. “Until a few weeks ago I was the mistress of one of the richest casino kingpins in Vegas.”

Ruby gaped. “For serious?”

“You doubt me?” Lacey gave her body a once-over gesture.

Ruby stared at her. Lacey had gotten any boy she wanted in high school. She’d gone after them with the drive of a big game hunter. But they hadn’t been the endgame. She’d wanted bigger things, freedom and stardom and recognition. And yet she wasn’t in LA anymore. She was here. There was something rough in her face, something tense. “Lacey..." Ruby reached out and let her hand curl around her arm, right above her elbow. "What have you gotten yourself into?”

Lacey looked away. “He wasn’t totally happy with me leaving him. I’ve been picking up work here and there, off the books, trying not to attract his attention.”

Lacey, _working_? Ruby stared at her, her hand tightening its grip. “Have you been… stripping?”

Lacey wrinkled her nose. “I’m too short to be a regular, but I’ve filled in. Mostly I pour the drinks.”

“Tending bar.” Ruby shook her head, smiling. “Bet you’re a great bartender.”

Lacey’s lips parted in surprise, and then she turned her head away, shyly, and smiled. “I forgot how non-judgmental you are.”

“Babe, I’ve waited tables for fourteen years.”

“Yeah, but it’s _me_. Everyone expected me to do something with my life, mostly because I said I was going to be, I dunno, producing movies by the time I was twenty-five.”

Ruby let her hand slide down, her fingers running over her wrist and half curling into her palm. “While everyone expected _me_ to still be in Storybrooke working at my grandma’s diner?”

Lacey made a face. “You’re not, are you?”

Ruby looked away. “Kinda am.”

Lacey’s fingers laced through hers. “Is it terrible that makes me feel better?” She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed Ruby’s cheek. Ruby froze.

The memories came back: Lacey’s skin under her hands, her hot mouth tasting like whiskey and tequila. Did she even remember? Ruby wasn’t going to ask.

“Yes,” she said. “You’re terrible. But that’s not a surprise.”

Lacey laughed and hugged her. “Want to ditch your friends and go dancing?”

Ruby didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

Lacey still was a ghost. This girl, who made her feel young and wild and desperate, wasn't _real_. She wasn't part of her life. But tonight, tonight she could live in this other world, and pretend it was somewhere she could stay forever.

Ruby pulled out her phone and texted Emma, “have fun, don’t wait up,” and she followed this phantom down the street to a glossy dance bar, all glass and chrome and neon lights. Lacey dropped her trench at the coat check, and the tight silky blue dress she wore underneath was almost too brief to be classy.

“What’s your poison?”

Being in Storybrooke, where the bartenders (i.e. Killian) couldn’t fix anything fancier than a martini, meant it had been too long since Ruby had gone for anything exciting, and there were too many ideas in her head. “God, I don’t know. Something sweet with a lot of tequila?”

Lacey grinned. “You got it.”

Ruby watched as Lacey sashayed toward the bar, catching the bartender’s attention immediately, and putting in an order.

“Knock’em back!” Lacey had returned with six shots, held expertly between her fingers.

Ruby rescued hers, and gulped one down. It was sweet and spicy and burned as it rolled down her throat. “Delicious.”

Lacey grinned. “My special.”

“See, now, being a shitty bartender is embarrassing. But being awesome? That’s awesome.”

Two more shots, and Lacey was pulling her onto the dance floor. Ruby was having a hard time remembering to breathe with the way Lacey stayed close, her lips brushing against the shell of her ear as she murmured comments. Ruby's hand stayed on the curve of Lacey's hip, needing to know she was there, even though it was impossible, even though she'd mourned her loss like it had been a death for so many years.

This was Lacey’s regular bar, and she knew the dirt on everyone. Ruby laughed, dancing close, enjoying the dismissive comments on the various men, the catty snark about the women, enjoying Lacey, her best friend.

The tequila finally did it's job, enveloping Ruby in a warm haze, helping her stop thinking and just be, be there, be _happy_ in a way she thought she'd forgotten how to be.

When the music got boring they moved on, to dives with country music, gay dance bars playing too much ABBA and weird glossy Vegas-kitch places.

The last bar threw them out at five. Ruby had stopped drinking at three, and was feeling like she might be sobering up a little. She didn’t want to be sober. Being drunk around Lacey meant she could focus on being near her, smelling the way her sweat mixed with her perfume, touching her. Being sober meant she remembered it was just for now. She’d go home and Lacey was in _Vegas_ , and it might be another ten years before they ran into each other again.

She didn’t think she could take that.

Lacey had been supplementing with a flask and was still drunk and happy, and as the street started to lighten, she pulled Ruby into an all night diner. They slid into a booth and ordered greasy food and coffee.

“God, I love you,” Lacey said. “No one has ever kept up with me like you do. And I just, I feel like I can keep going forever when I’m out with you.”

Ruby ducked her head, feeling her cheeks flush. “I love you too.”

“Aww,” said an unexpected voice. An older woman was standing there, holding the coffee pot, smiling at them. “You guys here for the sunrise celebration? I heard them starting to open the champagne.”

Lacey perked up, and looked at Ruby with a far too familiar grin. It was the one she wore every time they crashed a party, or pulled a prank and, well, there was that time they turned over a gas station. “Champagne? You called my name,” she murmured. She smiled at the woman. “Yep, that’s what we’re here for.”

“They’re going to start passing out licenses in a few minutes. I’ll get you your food quick so you can join the fun.”

“And coffee!” Ruby yelped.

The woman laughed and poured the coffee. “You were out late celebrating last night, weren’t you?”

“Haven’t been to bed yet.”

Lacey reached out and squeezed her arm. “You run me ragged girl.”

Ruby could only look at her, at the sly smirk that had once been her constant companion, at the girl she’d thought she’d lost forever. In darker moments she'd even wondered if she were dead, she'd disappeared that thoroughly. But she wasn't. She was _here_. “I’m so glad I found you.”

After fortification, they emerged back onto the street which had turned into an impromptu festival. Champagne was being poured everywhere. Showgirls, transvestite show girls, half naked people, and chocolate covered strawberries were in great abundance. Lacey caught Ruby’s hand and dragged her to the table, where about twenty people were taking cash and having them sign in. Lacey scribbled her name and pushed the paper towards Ruby who followed suit before actually looking at the paper.

“Wait,” she said, “that’s a—” But Lacey had handed off a hundred dollar bill and was passing her a rather gigantic glass of a fruity champagne cocktail.

Ruby, not quite able to take this all in, knocked it back quickly. If they were drunk enough, this would feel like the joke it was, right?

“You two together?” asked a roaming cameraman.

Lacey wound her arm into Ruby’s. “Always.” She batted her eyelashes up at Ruby. “I’m not letting you go again.” The words left a warm feeling in Ruby’s stomach. Then Lacey grinned. “I love parties,” she mumbled. She leaned in, rising onto her toes, and pressed a kiss half on Ruby’s mouth.

“Beautiful, girls,” the cameraman said, and handed Ruby a sticker.

Lacey looped her arms around Ruby’s neck and pulled her onto the impromptu dance floor. They swayed together to the wail of a super good R&B singer.

Another round of champagne came by, and then a black woman in bishops’ robes climbed up onto the stage, accompanied by two men dressed like Elvis, who were, surprisingly, holding hands.

“All right, everybody,” announced the woman. “We are here to celebrate a _wonderful_ occasion. This, a most _glorious_ day, with happiness and love all around us! We, those of us who have been committed to each other for long years, knowing what sickness and health and better and worse mean, and those of us who are just beginning, who are looking forward to _love_. We have the right to be here. And we are going to fulfill that right! Say it, y’all, let’s have a good shout. Do you kids promise to take care of each other? To hold on even if it’s hard? Say I will!”

The shout went up. “I will!”

Lacey shouted it as well, and then laughed into Ruby’s shoulder. “This is crazy,” she said. “Fuck it. I missed you.”

Ruby held her tightly and whispered the words to herself.

“I now pronounce you all husbands and husbands and wives and wives. Partners in love and law for as long as you both shall live! Now kiss!”

Lacey grinned widely. “Look! Everyone’s kissing!”

She turned, that threatening smile on her face. Ruby suddenly didn’t feel drunk anymore. She felt panicked. This couldn’t… Lacey pushed up on her toes, tugged Ruby;s head down, and was kissing her, properly, wet and deep, and Ruby couldn’t help but kiss her back.

 _Oh, shit_ was all Ruby could think. She loved Lacey, she always had. But Lacey was off limits, and the one time she’d crossed that line, they hadn’t spoken for nearly ten years. But now Lacey was kissing her, sweet and hot, and she had a sneaking suspicion that they’d just gotten married. And, oh no, _Peter_.

“I’m so drunk,” Lacey murmured into her shoulder. “That was a great kiss and now I need to pass out.”

“Ruby and Isabelle Lucas?” The boy said at the gates, checking the sticker that was still stuck to Ruby’s arm. “Here’s your folder.” Ruby grabbed it, and half supporting Lacey, caught the first cab she could find back to her hotel. Lacey was totally out of it by the time she made it there, and Ruby picked her up, one arm around her back and the other under her knees. She was light, too light almost, compared to the times Ruby had carried her in high school. Groggily, Lacey looped her arms around her neck and half hung on as they headed up in the elevators. When Ruby had finally managed to make the key card let them into the room, Lacey was asleep.

Ruby dropped her on the bed, pulling off her heels and making sure she was on her side. Then she drank a glass of water, staring helplessly at her phone, and passed out on the couch.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

At 11 there was a knock on the door. Ruby staggered over and opened it on Emma. Emma gaped at her. “You look like _shit_.”

“Oh thanks,” Ruby grumbled. “I just got in like an _hour_ ago. Can we not do this now?”

“Where did you go? You just texted, and then you were gone, and Mary Margaret was ready to pack it in at two and was suddenly all in a flutter about where you’d ended up.”

“She didn’t hook up?”

Emma shrugged, but smiled. “I gave the cute waiter her number. Told him she was super shy but would love it if he called.”

Ruby nodded sleepily. “Good job.”

“But you? Did _you_ hook up?” Emma looked concerned. “I don’t think that’s how bachelorette parties are supposed to go.”

“I, uh,” Ruby forced a smile. “I did not get any last night. I promise you that.”

“Great. Things I don’t want to explain to Peter, yeah?” Emma patted her shoulder. “Mary Margaret’s got the do not disturb sign up, so I’ll just go entertain myself. Buzz me when you’re feeling like facing the day.”

“Thanks. Maybe we’ll have dinner.”

When the door shut, Ruby staggered all the way to the bed and collapsed next to Lacey, who curled up like a limpet beside her. Ruby didn't even remember closing her eyes.

At 6 pm Lacey moaned, “ _coffee_ ,” into her ear. “God, please coffee.”

Feeling the same desperation, Ruby dragged herself up and started the machine. She heard Lacey get up and the shower go on.

Ruby sat down at the table and found the folder from the morning before. Inside was an 8x10 glossy of her and Lacey tangled up together, kissing. You couldn’t see Ruby’s surprise, or the fact that Lacey had gone for the cheek and missed. They looked like a couple. Ruby's stomach twisted itself into knots. Behind the photo was a marriage license and a form letter. “Congrats!” it read. “Mail the license to the address on the envelope and you’re all set.”

Ruby couldn’t help but laugh in relief. It was just a joke. It wasn't going to wreck everything. And she'd found _Lacey_.

“Is that coffee?” Lacey said, emerging from the bathroom in one of Ruby’s sleep t-shirts that went down to mid thigh on her. “It had better be coffee.”

Ruby handed her a mug. “Don’t I get a kiss? ‘It had better be coffee’ is a terrible way to greet your wife.”

Lacey blinked at her and then looked down at the photograph and the license. “Ohhh,” she said. “Well, shit.”

Ruby grinned. “Don’t worry. It’s not legal until we mail it in.”

“We got _married_?” Lacey rolled her head back. “I’m too hungover to deal with this.” She downed her mug of coffee and held it out for more. “Fill’er up, wife.”

Ruby shook her head and poured her more coffee. “Glad you’re taking this well.”

Lacey rubbed her eyes. “It was a great party. And it still beats that time I woke up with a broken ankle in nothing but a pair of superman boxers and no idea how I got either.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“But still,” Lacey glanced down at herself and laughed. “They thought we were gay? I don’t look gay, do I?”

Ruby went still. Those were not words she wanted to hear. She hesitated then said, “you were the one hanging all over me.”

“Platonically.” Lacey rolled her eyes. “And it’s not like you look gay either.”

“Lacey…” Ruby didn’t really know how to say this. It seemed more and more apparent that she didn’t remember a thing about what had happened between them on the night before she left. She hadn't gone through the same tumultuous redefining of her identity, and whatever had caused her to disappear, it wasn't that. But this still wasn’t fair. “I’ve been with a woman,” _and so have you_. “And I've dated a girl a couple times. It didn’t go anywhere,” because the girls had had little interest in seeing someone who was stuck in Storybrooke and didn’t have any will to leave. “But, I’m at least marginally bi.”

Lacey's eyes widened and the coffee cup. already hovering near the table, slipped from her suddenly loose fingers and landed with a clunk. Her lips parted, and she swallowed, looking like she wanted to speak, but didn't have anything to say.

Ruby stood up and reached toward her. Lacey flinched away from her touch. It felt like a slap. Ruby drew her hands back, balling them into fists at her sides. “I’m not— I didn’t push you into this. If anything, you were taking the lead. It’s just, what’s so weird about people thinking we’re together? Especially _there_. What looks more gay, wearing a backwards baseball cap, or holding a girl’s hand and saying you love her?”

Lacey’s shoulders dropped and she rubbed her forehead. “Oh. Yeah. I guess that was kind of dumb. I’m just… fuck. I’m so hungover.”

Ruby reached out but paused before she made contact. Lacey looked at her, looked at her hand. Then she stepped in and wrapped Ruby’s arm around her waist. “Sorry.” She pressed her head against Ruby’s chest. “Not freaking out. It’s just… I haven’t seen you in ten years, and you come out with this, and it’s like… I don’t know you anymore. I just wanted to pretend that wasn’t true for a little bit longer.”

“Lacey,” Ruby pulled her in close, into a gentle, very platonic hug. There was an ugly twist of disappointment her stomach that only made her feel guilty. “You think I don’t feel the same? You tell me you’re the mistress of some casino kingpin, and then you’re embarrassed about being a bartender. My Lacey was never embarrassed about anything. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Ex-mistress. And now I’m your wife.” Lacey gave her a wry half-smile and leaned in, letting her lips brush against her cheek. Ruby breathed in the scent of her hair. It was too much. She couldn't help thinking about it, but not just the time when they were eighteen, but that morning, when Lacey had promised to take care of her, hold onto her, and then snogged the hell out of her.

Ruby was engaged to someone else.

“I gotta take a shower.”

Lacey kissed her other cheek. “Yeah. You stink.”

* * *

When the shower went on, Lacey looked down at the marriage license. “Change of name,” she muttered. Then she smiled.

* * *

Ruby got out of the shower, got dressed, got coffee, and looked around. Lacey was on the couch, in Ruby's sweatshirt and jeans that were half slipping down her hips and cuffed at least three times around her ankles, with her feet up on the arm. It was still jarring to look around and see her there, when so many times, she'd looked for her, only to find an empty space. But good jarring. Having Lacey back was the one thing she'd wanted for so long, and now she was here, and just because she had no personal space boundaries didn't mean that Ruby had to let herself fall apart.

She wasn't going to fall apart. But as she glanced around the room, she noticed something missing. “What happened to the marriage license?”

“I got the bellboy to put it in the mail.”

Ruby froze. “You did _what?”_

Lacey waved her mug. “More coffee, wife!”

In two steps, Ruby was leaning over the couch, not sure if she was going to resort to violence. “You put it in the _mail_!”

Lacey looked up at her, making a face. “You know how my ex-boy wasn’t too pleased at me ditching him? He might, um, still be looking for me. I haven’t been doing things under my own name. So I figured, why not take the opportunity to change it. Again.”

“What?”

“Isabelle Lucas,” Lacey grinned at her. “Hot, yeah?”

“Lacey,” Ruby dropped to her knees in front of the couch. “We got _married_.”

Lacey rolled onto her side and wrinkled her forehead. “Is that so terrible? We'll get it annulled in a couple of weeks, after I get a new driver's license. No big deal.”

Ruby put her face in her hands. She was in for it now. This was possibly the worst thing that could have happened. And now she had to tell the truth. “You know how I said I was here for a bachelorette party?”

“Yeah.”

“And how I implied it wasn’t mine.”

Lacey’s eyes narrowed. “ _Yeah_.”

“Well, it is. I’m engaged to someone, and we’re supposed to be getting married on _Sunday_ , but now I’m married to you, and if I go through with it, well, that’s illegal, and if I tell him… that’s not going to go well either.”

Lacey shifted until she was sitting up, and not just casually, but stiffly and sharply, like a drawn bow. “So it’s a dude?” The words bit out like a snake striking.

Ruby looked up, confused. “Why is that the most important thing right now?”

“You said you were bi. I was just wondering how seriously bi you were.” Lacey's tone was careless, but there was something ugly underneath it.

Ruby scowled.

“But I guess marrying a girl, then marrying a guy within a week of each other, that’s pretty fucking bi!”

“What the hell, Lacey?”

Lacey shoved herself up off the couch. “Where do you get off on this! Fine, getting married is mostly my fault. But you could have stopped me, you could have said no. You could have _told me the truth_.”

“I didn’t _lie_! I just didn’t want to— I don’t know, deal with the interrogation, okay! I’d just found you again! I didn’t want to have to have our time be about _him_.”

Lacey was shaking her head. “We hung out all night. You didn’t say a fucking word about whoever this dude is that you’re banging. And either that means I’m not important enough to tell the truth to, or that he isn’t all that important. And one of those options makes me feel pretty shitty.”

“I knew you’d do this. You’d make me feel like I was settling!”

“Whoa!” Lacey raised her hand in protest. “I did _nothing_ to make you feel like that. I haven’t even _met_ this guy.” She narrowed her eyes. “But, honestly. You don’t want to talk about him, you think I’m dissing him when I’m not, and you get married to me sans protest, and I’m starting to think you _are_ settling.”

“I’m _not_.”

“Then tell me his fucking name!”

“Peter! Peter Shepard! You know him. We went to high school with him!” Confessing it felt like ripping down the curtain on a dark corner that hid something shameful and ignored.

Lacey’s lip curled in disgust. “Fuck you. You _are_ settling.”

Ruby felt her eyes burn. And whose fault was that? “Yeah, well, acting like _you_ and sleeping around got me where I didn’t have a lot of choice!”

“Then _leave_. Reputations don’t stick to you.”

“That’s my _home_. I’m not going to leave! Not like you did. Running away.” _Running away from_ me _._ And all the words were lies, but Ruby couldn't help it. She wanted to strike out, to hit to hurt.

“I got out,” Lacey spat, chin up and fists clenched.

“And now you’re here, a part time stripper, and deciding to marry _me_ just so you can change your name and get away from the creep who’s after you.”

Lacey looked murderous.

Just then a knock came at the door. “Hey. Everything all right in there?”

Ruby choked on more unforgivable words she had been about to say. She took a breath and covered her face. “Fine, Emma,” she called out.

“Um, you kind of said you didn’t pull, girl.”

Ruby gave once glance to Lacey who still looked furious and was hiking up the too-big jeans by the belt loops. She took three steps and opened the door. “I didn’t,” she said, to Emma. “You might as well come in.”

Emma stepped inside and looked immediately at Lacey. Her eyebrows peaked in curiosity, and she gave Ruby a look that came with a slight nod. Ruby shut her eyes. Knowing Emma thought her ill-advised-not-actually-a-hookup was pretty fine was not something she really needed in her life. “So, who’s this?”

“This is _Lacey_ ," Ruby said as clearly and firmly as possible. "My friend from high school.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Lacey? You mean _the_ Lacey? The one you—” Ruby gave her a look of death. If any euphemism for sex came out of her mouth, Ruby would kill her. “…. talk a lot about?”

“Yes. _That_ Lacey.”

“And who are you?” Lacey's tone was sharp and abrupt. The look she was giving Emma was suspicious and unfriendly.

“I’m Emma, Ruby's friend. I’m the deputy sheriff of Storybrooke.”

“Oh, _really_ _?_ ” Lacey drawled. “Ever arrest anyone for bigamy?”

“ _Lacey_ ,” Ruby hissed. People didn't need to know. The fewer people who found out about the stupid thing they'd done the better.

“Uh, no. Picked someone up for indecent exposure once. That was kind of awkward.”

“Oh, I’ve gotten picked up for that.”

Emma laughed. “Impressive. I was mainly up on theft and destruction of property charges myself.”

Lacey blinked at her. “And you’re the sheriff?”

“Deputy." Emma shrugged and offered a smile that was more wry than amused. "You can turn yourself around, if you want.”

Lacey gave Ruby a sidelong look, then shrugged. “Some people can.”

“So,” Emma said, smiling firmly enough to fend off Lacey's terrible attitude. “Now I get why Rubes disappeared last night. It’s really cool she ran into you. We were going to go downstairs for dinner. You joining us?”

Lacey pursed her lips. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m free.”

“Let’s go get Mary Margaret.”

Ruby stared at Lacey's back as she followed Emma out into the hall and to Mary Margaret's room. Even after that insult-fest she was still here. Ruby swallowed. This was her best friend. She needed to make sure that they could salvage something from this, because even if all they did was fight, Ruby didn't think she would be able to handle Lacey disappearing again.

The do not disturb sign was dangling from Mary Margaret's door handle. Emma and Ruby exchanged a glance, and Emma knocked. There was some scuffling, a whispered conversation, and then the door opened. Mary Margaret peeked her head out. “Um, hi,” she said.

“You coming to dinner?” Emma asked.

Mary Margaret ducked her head. “Do you think, maybe…”

“Sure, whoever you’ve got in there can come too. It’s fine.”

The too-skinny-to-be-a-stripper young man peeped out of the door. “Hi, y’all. I’m Dave.”

“Great,” Emma said. “I’m Emma, and that’s Ruby, and that’s Lacey.”

Mary Margaret froze, her eyes fixed on Lacey. “Lacey,” she said. “Lacey? What—”

“Hey, nerd,” Lacey said, a low tone of cruel amusement in her voice. “Long time no see.”

Dave looked a bit confused, but smiled, effortlessly charming. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

As they progressed down toward the hotel restaurant, Mary Margaret kept casting Ruby wild and impenetrable looks. Finally, once they had been led to a table, she jerked Ruby with her towards the bathroom. She dragged her through the doors and Ruby stumbled, bumping up against the sink, and holding on to it, steeling herself in the face of Mary Margaret's distress.

“What is _Lacey_ doing here?” Mary Margaret waved her hands around. “Don't you _know_ what she did to me in high school?”

Ruby gaped. She'd been so caught up in her own reaction to Lacey's reappearance that she'd forgotten that other people had their own relationships with her. And Mary Margaret had no reason to be pleased at her return. Ruby winced. “Oh, yeah. I did some of the same things, though. You forgave me.” And even if she hadn't done the same things, she'd stood by and egged her on and she'd laughed when a target had run away, humiliated.

Mary Margaret frowned at her. “You were never as bad as her. And you apologized.”

“Mer…” Ruby sighed and tried to figure out what to do. “She was my best friend. We’ve been out of touch for nearly ten years, and I _missed_ her. I probably won’t see her again for another ten years after this, and I want to have as much time with her as I can now. Just… try to get along, okay?” She forced a smile. It would have been easier to sell this if they hadn’t just been biting each others heads off. “So, Dave? He’s cute.”

Mary Margaret turned pink.

Dinner was still awkward. Honestly, Ruby thought, thank god for Dave. He really was charming, and managed to keep the conversation flowing through Lacey’s boulders and Mary Margaret’s panic. He even managed to make Lacey smile and commiserate about the worst parts of living in Vegas with him. Unfortunately, then he brought up the Topic.

“So, Mary Margaret says you’re here for a Bachelorette weekend?” He smiled at Ruby. “Yours?”

“Um, yeah.” Ruby just wished everyone would leave so she could actually talk to Lacey and figure this out. She hadn't left yet, which was a good sign, but Ruby felt hollow, waiting for that moment of connection that she'd been missing for so long. But everything was just bitterness and sharp edges.

“Not that she’s proud of it,” sneered Lacey.

Mary Margaret looked affronted. “Peter’s a lovely man. And he’s gotten quite handsome since high school.”

“I’m sure they look like the perfect couple,” Lacey responded, the bitter sarcasm of her words unignorable.

Emma caught Ruby’s eye and mouthed “Jealous?”

Ruby sighed and shook her head. She wished everyone would just leave the subject alone.

Lacey glared at Ruby. “Why don’t you tell us about how wonderful he is? Why don’t you say how excited you are about getting married to him?”

“Lace…” Ruby bit her lip. She didn't _get_ this. Fine, she was angry, feeling betrayed, but it did look like she was jealous, like the stupid mistake they'd made that morning had meant something to her. And Ruby hated this, hated not knowing what she was thinking.

“Or _aren’t_ you excited?”

“What if I say I’m _not_?” Ruby snapped. It was jealousy, wasn't it? Lacey hated the idea that there might be someone more important to Ruby than she was. Well, she didn't have to worry about that! And that was the worst part of it all. “What if I say that I never wanted him, I never wanted to be stuck in Storybrooke, and I was just waiting for you to come back into my life and take me away? Is that what you want to hear?”

Lacey looked stunned. “What?”

Ruby shut her eyes. She really didn’t remember their hook up, did she? Maybe she was jealous, but Lacey was jealous because she was selfish, not for any better reason. And she'd left. Ten years ago, her possessiveness could have been cute, but it was too late now. It was _too late_. “But you didn’t come back for me. I couldn’t call you, but you stopped calling me. And then, when I finally tried to find you, you were gone without a trace. I had to figure out what my life was supposed to be like without you, because you’d written me off. So can we just say that there’s a nice guy, who cares about me, who wants to marry me? And I care about him, and I don’t want to break his heart.”

Lacey’s eyes were wide and blue and full of something like guilt. But that couldn't be right. Lacey was never guilty. “Ruby…”

“You don’t have to explain why you disappeared. If you had reasons, you had reasons." Ruby rested her face in her hand. "I still love you. But I can’t… I can’t make all my decisions based on what you think anymore.

Lacey turned her head, eyes shifting away. “I’m supposed to be at your side.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a spot for you if you want it.” Ruby sighed. This hadn't gone at all like she'd hoped it would. But how could it? Even if Lacey cared, wanted their friendship back, there was nine years of silence between them. They'd changed, and it would take work to figure out how to be friends again after that. “And I kind of need you to be nearby while we get the divorce or annulment or whatever sorted out.”

“Wait, _what_ did you just say?” Emma asked, at way too high a pitch.

Lacey was just looking at her though, eyes soft and liquid. “I want you to want me there.”

Ruby reached out and clasped her hands. “Lacey. I want you there. I want you to be my best friend again. I kind of wish I had run into you without being in the middle of wedding preparations, and, well, without getting married to you this morning. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you with me.”

“You… got married this morning? To _each other?_ ” Mary Margaret asked, utter horror in her voice.

“Oh!” Dave asked cheerfully. “At the sunrise ceremony in the park? I heard they were going to do that, since the amendment got repealed. It’s kind of romantic, isn’t it?”

“There were multiple misunderstandings involved,” Ruby said, feeling only exhausted. The bomb had been dropped, but who cared anymore?

“You got _married_?” Emma repeated.

Mary Margaret was staring at them,, her expression intent and half-triumphant, her eyes flicking back and forth from Lacey to Ruby. “Oh,” she said. “That makes a lot of sense.”

Lacey stiffened, her hands pulling out of Ruby’s grip. “What did you just say, nerd?”

Mary Margaret bristled right back at her. “Don’t call me that! _Homewrecker_.”

“Homewrecker?” Lacey looked at her, her mouth half open in a confused sort of sneer. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Mary Margaret half rose from the table, as if lifted on wings of righteousness. “They were happy! Ruby was happy with Peter! They were getting married! But you show up and put your slutty hands all over Ruby! How dare you seduce her! You know she’s weak against you!”

“Seduce her?” Lacey looked shocked and a bit furious. “I didn’t seduce her! I’m not _gay_! She’s the one who fucks girls!”

Mary Margaret took in an appalled gasp at the language.

Emma snorted. “Really?” she asked. “Ruby’s the only one of you who fucks girls?”

Lacey looked down at herself and then back up at the table. “What is it about me these days that makes me read as a lesbian?”

“Maybe getting married to a woman?” Dave suggested.

Lacey glared. “Besides that.”

“It’s not like this is the first time you’ve banged Ruby,” Emma said.

Ruby went cold.

Lacey just looked angry. “I’ve never banged Ruby!”

“Um, yeah, you have,” Emma said, sounding amused. “Ruby got super drunk once and told me all about it. Apparently you bite.”

Lacey looked disbelieving, shaking her head vehemently. “What? No. No way.” She looked over at Ruby. Ruby couldn’t meet her eyes. “We didn’t,” she said.

“You must have blacked it out,” Ruby said quietly. “It was the night before you left for UCLA.”

“Oh,” Lacey said, her voice unexpectedly soft. “Was that why you didn’t call me?”

Ruby nodded.

Lacey swallowed audibly. She forced a grin that looked like a structural weakness, a crack heralding everything falling apart. “Was it that bad?”

Ruby just stared at her. She knew everyone was watching her. Everyone here seemed to _know_ except for Lacey, and, well Dave, not that he counted. She could feel Emma’s knowing look, Mary Margaret’s pitying eyes. But the hardest person to face was the one who needed an answer. She swallowed. “You were my best friend,” she said. “Being with you like that, it just showed me that I... I was in love with you. It was terrifying. I couldn’t call. How could I tell you that and hear you laugh in my face? But all I wanted was for you to come back into my life and sweep me up and carry me away. It… took me a long while to get over that.”

Lacey let out a small sad huff. “I see,” she said. She laughed weakly. “I’m the girl you’ve been with.”

Ruby nodded. “I dated other girls, but never for very long. They weren’t you. Guys, at least, were never even in the running to be you.”

“But you’re… over me?”

 _No_. Of course not. And yet… Ruby sighed, fiddling with the silverware left on the tablecloth. “Lace, I don’t know you anymore. I was in love with my best friend from high school, and you’re not that girl. I’m not who I was then either.”

Lacey swallowed hard. She was just staring at Ruby, face pale and still and a little stricken. She shut her eyes for a long moment. Then she opened them. “I need to go,” she said.

No! That was the worst option. She couldn’t just leave again!

“Lacey, please—”

Lacey shoved her chair back and stood up. She didn’t look at Ruby, looked everywhere else. Ruby could see the panic, the distress. “Look, I’ll be in contact about the annulment, okay? I just can’t, I can’t be here right now.”

Ruby stood up as well, struggling to get out from the narrow gap between the table and the wall. “Please don’t,” she begged. “Please don’t leave again.”

Lacey shook her head vehemently, loose dark curls lashing around her face. “No. I— _No_. I can’t stay.” She turned and fled, barely dodging a waiter, and vanishing out the door before Ruby had made it out of the clutches of her chair.

She was gone.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

Lacey hurried through the dark streets, made darker by the violent fluorescent lights overhead, head down, needing to get somewhere, do something that could make her stop feeling like this, stop hurting.

So many things made sense now. She’d slept with Ruby. She’d slept with _Ruby_ , the girl with the long legs and the great smiles and the warm hugs who’d been her family all through high school, when her real family had been nothing but shit. God, she’d only befriended her in the first place because she’d known she’d be hot, and it would be better to have her as an ally than a rival. She hadn’t counted on Ruby being kind, being the best person she’d ever met.

She hadn’t counted on Ruby falling in love with her.

It felt like a conquest, the greatest, most unexpected conquest she’d ever made. And yet it was also a defeat, because she hadn’t known. She’d squandered it. 

And she didn’t _want_ Ruby. She wasn’t like that. It was… revolting, almost, to think that people could see her and think she was _like that_. But the burn in her chest was unrepentant jealousy. She didn’t want Ruby, but she was so jealous of her younger self for having been _wanted_ by Ruby. Because Ruby didn’t want her anymore. She was right to say she didn’t know her, and if she ever found out who Lacey really was now, she’d never want her.

“Hey, hot mama,” a kid on a street corner in a ratty duster called out. “You wanna buy some sunglasses?”

Lacey froze, the words catching onto her emotional confusion and jerking her towards him, like a hooked fish. She needed it. She needed to feel better, to feel balanced, because feeling like this was _shit_.

“What do you have?” she asked him, the words coming out too easy and practiced. It had been years now, years of _not_ answering those calls, of fighting for every inch of balance and happiness in her life. “And I’m not looking for Ray-Bans.”

The boy grinned. “Got all the good stuff. Snow, brown sugar, cotton, skittles.”

Lacey swallowed hard. She reached for her wallet. Just one time would be enough, right? Just to knock her out of this spiral. 

It wasn’t _fair_. She’d felt so good that morning. She’d found Ruby, spent the night drunk and dancing and woken up safe, pressed against the only person she’d ever been comfortable sharing a bed with. And now everything was a mess.

She’d hurt Ruby by leaving.

She’d only hurt her again.

“No,” Lacey shook her head. “No thanks. Gotta get home.” She put her head down and hurried on. She deserved to feel this way. It sucked, but she deserved it, didn’t she?

She deserved it.

***

Ruby was a wreck on the plane. Mary Margaret, still teary from having had a sad and intimate goodbye with Dave, was patting her arm anxiously. Emma was solicitous and kept giving Ruby curious looks.

Ruby, internally, felt like she’d been destroyed. But that was Lacey through and through, she hit like a hurricane and left destruction in her wake. She’d just wanted her friend back, but instead everything had come out – more than everything – Ruby had never admitted to anyone – even to herself – that she’d been in love. But what else could it have been? It was the kind of feeling that meant she’d wanted to spend every moment with her, that she’d wanted to be touching her, and tasting her, and smelling her. She was never bored with Lacey, never felt anything but wildly happy or wildly hurt. What she felt, it was something besides friendship. A crush, of course, but ten years was enough for that to fade. Why was she so destroyed now?

Peter picked them up at the airport and Emma kept him slightly away from Ruby who was huddling in her coat and sunglasses. “Hungover,” she murmured. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ruby couldn't look at him. She wished, a little, that seeing him would make her feel worse, that her guilt at doing this to him would overwhelm the current depression with something stronger. But it didn't. Knowing that she was going to hurt him was too cerebral. It didn't have any effect on the hollow emptiness in her gut.

Ruby stepped into the diner and Granny gave her one long look.Ruby took off her sunglasses.

“Oh, pet.”

“I’m fine,” Ruby mumbled. It was a shock, her grandmother being sympathetic, but she was too miserable to be soothed by it.“I’m fine. I just… I screwed up. I ran into–" How could she say it? "You remember her. I ran into Lacey.”

There was silence, and Ruby looked up. Granny's expression was one of disbelief. “You ran into _Lacey?_ ”

Ruby nodded weakly. “Yeah.” The strength of her grandmother's surprise, the tight line that formed in her mouth even as her eyes stayed utterly sympathetic, they were the first things that made a dent in her locked up misery. She understood. She got how bad this was, and Ruby could feel the tight muscles in her chest slowly beginning to loosen.

Granny shook her head. “And you told her? Finally? That you’ve been hung up on her since you were twelve?”

Ruby shut her eyes, but it wasn’t like she’d ever been able to hide anything from her grandmother. “Yeah, something like that,” she muttered. “And, well. We got married.”

Granny’s jaw dropped. 

Ruby almost felt amused by the surprise. Finally, she’d shocked her unshockable grandmother. But it really wasn’t something to laugh about. “It wasn’t intentional. It just _happened_ , and I hadn’t told her yet. I told her after and she just fled and I can’t…” Her chest seized up again. She’d been so close, so close to having her back, and now she was gone, she was _really_ gone this time. Because who in their right mind would put up with a pathetic crush from a girl she’d left behind a decade ago? Certainly not Lacey. Certainly not— “I feel like I’ve forgotten how to breathe.”

“You always were a stupid girl.” Granny stepped up and put her arms around her, pulling her into her shoulder, holding her tightly. “You were always stupid about that girl.”

***

“You think you can hide in this town? You think you can just walk away from Mr. Gold?” The thug asked.

Lacey stared at him, seeking in her peripheral vision a way out, any way out. But there wasn’t one. They'd been in her hole of an apartment, one sitting on her bed, one stepping out behind her to block the door.

“If he was a gentleman, he would let me leave,” she said.

The thug laughed. “Mr. Gold ain’t never been a gentleman.”

When his fist struck her face, and a knee buried itself into her stomach, she dropped to the ground and curled up, protecting herself as best she could, letting the two men kick the shit out of her back and shoulders.

She’d felt worse, she told herself. It was just pain. It wasn’t like it was _withdrawal_ or anything.

Lying in a bloody, messed up heap on the floor, Lacey shut her eyes and imagined arms around her. Imaginary ones were best right now, as real ones would have hurt like a motherfucker. But she let herself fall into the imagining, let herself breathe in the scent of home and comfort, not the dirty concrete and piss that truly surrounded her. 

It smelled like coffee and frying oil. It felt like safety.

Maybe she didn’t deserve that. But god, she wished she had it.

***

Peter was pacing back and forth outside the diner, and Ruby finally girded herself enough to call him inside. The diner was empty, Granny in the back but within earshot. Ruby could see the tightness in Peter's fists and the twitches in his jaw that made her uncomfortable talking to him alone.

He stepped inside, his shoulders a little high, his gait stiff and unsure. 

Ruby closed her eyes. “Peter, we need to talk.”

“What happened in Las Vegas, Ruby? When you left, everything was good between us. We’re supposed to get _married_ on Sunday.”

Ruby winced. “I know. But I can’t. I can’t go to the courthouse yet.”

“What?” Peter’s lips parted, the hurt obvious on his face. He looked like a desperate little boy, being left behind by older, cooler friends. “Is it me? Is it because of me?”

Ruby shook her head. “No. Peter, I just… I did something dumb in Vegas and now I have to wait for it to get sorted out. If we could just put it off a couple of weeks…” She felt a little sick. She could have ended it permanently, here and now, but she was desperate for any way to soften it. 

“Is it… a health thing?” Peter looked concerned. “Did you sleep with someone without protection?”

Ruby shook her head fiercely. “No. Nothing like that. I didn’t cheat on you.”

The relief in his eyes was painful.

“I just… married someone else.”

Peter froze, the relief entirely gone. “You did _what_?” His knuckles were white, the twitch in his jaw fluttering like a butterfly's wings.

Ruby stepped back, out of range. She put up her hands. “It was an accident, I swear! And we didn’t sleep together or anything. I’m going to get an annulment as soon as possible.”

“You _married_ someone?”

“It was a total misunderstanding. It didn’t mean anything, I promise. It was someone I… barely knew.”

“You married someone and it didn’t mean anything.” Peter’s voice was utterly disbelieving. “Does that mean you could marry me and it wouldn’t mean anything?” He stomped to the bar and kicked over a stool. “I can’t deal with this right now. I need to have a little space, or I’ll start yelling and I don’t like yelling.”

He walked out, the door wasn't slammable, but a pot of pansies outside was the victim of his angry foot. Ruby winced as the terracotta pot smashed on the cement.

Ruby picked up the stool and then sat on it, resting her head in her hands. Granny came over and set a cup of coffee down next to her. “That went pretty well, compared to what I was expecting.”

Ruby shook her head and let out a low moan.

“You didn’t tell him it was Lacey.”

“Should I have? Do you think he would have understood better…”

Granny snorted. “Sure he would have understood better. He’d have got it that he’s always been the runner up. You ditched him in high school for that girl, and if she showed an ounce of interest in you, you’d ditch him again.”

Ruby shook her head. “No. She’s not… she’s not the same." She picked up the coffee and stared into it but didn't take a sip. Then she looked up, meeting her grandmother's eyes. "I’m in love with _my_ Lacey, the one who lives in my head. She’s not real though. She’s not the one I ended up married to. I wanted the girl with big dreams, who’d push me to have them too, and go out there and take them. Not the part-time stripper, casual bartender, on the run from her ex, girl I met. I wanted the one who made me into a better, more interesting person, not the one who’d ended up as much of a mess as I am.”

Granny gave her a penetrating look. “That’s the first intelligent thing I’ve heard you say about that girl in your life,” she said. “It’s probably bullshit.”

***

 


	5. Chapter 5

Mary Margaret was busy, busy, busy. The committee to plan their high school reunion had devolved most of the responsibilities onto her. Well, really, Regina, the president, had delegated logistics to her, which made sense because Mary Margaret was one of the few people in her class left in Storybrooke. She could stop down at the Rabbit Hole and talk to the manager much more easily than Regina, now a hot-shot lawyer in Boston, could. (Peter was another member of their class still in Storybrooke, but he was not interested in party planning.) And though Mary Margaret was having conflicted thoughts about even going to the reunion (single), no one refused Regina anything. The idea of letting her down, of having the reunion be any less than three days of perfection, was not even to be considered.

Papers spread out over the table in front of her, Mary Margaret sipped her coffee as she went over the checklist one more time. Venues, bands, slideshows. At least Sidney had taken responsibility for the slideshow. That was one thing off her plate.

When the taxi pulled up outside, she looked out of the diner window, curious. No one took taxis in Storybrooke. If you were too drunk to drive, you’d just walk. The door opened, and she saw black leather knee length boots, then patterned black tights, then a dark blue satin skirt shielded by loose black lace.

She didn't need anything more to know who it was.

 _Lacey_.

Mary Margaret stood up in a rush and knocked over her coffee cup. Ruby looked up and headed over with her cloth. “Are you okay—” And then she followed Mary Margaret’s gaze. The girl was out of the taxi now, giant sunglasses on her nose, hair up in a twist, a large floppy hat shadowing her face. She was wearing long sleeves, odd on such a warm day. And though she was as disguised as a movie star, she was still entirely recognizable.

“Oh,” Ruby said, but it sounded more like a cry from deep inside her. “She’s here.”

“Did you know…”

Ruby shook her head.

Mary Margaret squeezed her arm. “Poor Peter.”

Ruby gave her a look of complete betrayal. Mary Margaret squeezed her arm again. “Poor you.”

Ruby pulled her arm away and wiped up the spilled coffee. “I’m not going to leave him for her.” Her voice was rough. She sounded a little bitter about it.

Mary Margaret gave her a look, pressing her lips together wryly. Ruby had no idea how lucky she was. She _had_ someone, and then she went and did something like this. But you couldn't help who you loved. Even if they were the worst person in the _world_. “You kind of already did.”

Ruby stiffened. “He wasn’t my boyfriend when we were kids. I didn’t ditch him for her then, even if he thinks I did.”

“I’m not talking about that.”

“Then _what_?”

Mary Margaret reached out and pressed her forearm lightly. “You married her, Ruby. You were engaged to him and you married her.”

Ruby stared at Mary Margaret’s earnest face. It was a ‘you don’t mess around with holy sacraments’ face. “I was drunk. It was a mistake.”

“Did you say it? Did you say the words in front of a minister? Legal minister, any kind of minister.”

“A preacher lady and two guys dressed like Elvis?”

“It counts, Ruby. Especially if you meant it.”

Lacey had paid the driver and was wheeling a tiny black suitcase towards the inn across the road.

“She was the one who said it,” Ruby said softly. “I just said it back.”

* * *

Ruby rolled over in bed again, unable to sleep. What was she going to tell Peter? What was she going to do? What was Lacey planning?

But mostly, why hadn’t Lacey come to see her yet? She was here, she was in town, and yet she hadn’t even stopped into the diner. She had to have come to see Ruby, didn’t she? Ruby shut her eyes, but her stomach hurt too much to sleep.

There was a sharp rap on her window. Ruby froze. Then another, like a sudden large hailstone. She slowly climbed out of bed and went to the window. She opened it and dodged a rock as it flew past her nose.

“Hey!” she hissed.

“Shit! Sorry!”

Lacey, always Lacey, down under the shadow of the tree, looking up at her in her high school bedroom, like she really was sixteen again.

“You didn’t climb up,” Ruby said, automatically.

“Yeah,” Lacey’s voice was hesitant. “I’m not really climbing stuff right now.”

Ruby went still. The last time she'd heard that it had been immediately prior to a late night trip to the ER. “Hold on. I’m coming down.”

She considered her options for only a moment. Stairs and lose sight of her, or tree? She took the tree. She was out of practice, and dropped awkwardly down the last few feet, barely keeping upright on the landing. Lacey laughed at her, but it was gentle.

Too gentle.

Ruby stared at her, unable to make out her features in the darkness, then caught her hand and tugged her into the light from the streetlamps. She saw her face. “Oh, Lacey…”

“Yeah,” Lacey turned her head away, shielding the ugly bruising and swelling that surrounded her eyes and temple. “My ex’s boys caught up with me. Couldn’t really stay in Vegas. Didn’t… have anywhere else to go.”

“Oh god.” Ruby couldn’t deal with this. All of her stupid hurt for being rejected seemed so unimportant now. It didn’t matter about the stupid crush, their tangled history. Her friend, her best friend, was hurt and needed her. She reached out, catching her hand. “You’re always welcome here. You know that, right? Getting married was a stupid accident, but I meant what I said then. I promised to take care of you, and if you need anything, I’m here for you.”

Lacey didn’t smile. She pulled her hand away and looked at her, cool and steady. “I don’t deserve that,” she said. “And you shouldn’t make those kinds of promises to someone like me.”

Ruby swallowed, unsure if it was the rejection or the unfamiliar hardness in Lacey's face that made her stomach churn. “You’re my best friend.”

“I was,” Lacey said. She shook her head, turning away, and there was something familiar in her eyes, bitterness maybe, regret. “But I don’t know why you still trust me. I disappeared for ten years and then I freaked out when you said you had been in love with me." She huffed a weak laugh. "You didn’t even say you _were_ in love with me, just that you had been.”

Ruby felt sick, chest tight, faced with her own feelings. She was good at trampling them, but she'd never had to do it to Lacey's face before. Ruby had gone so long never having to deal with a real reaction. She'd just had to deal with being alone. She'd been angry, after she got over her hurt and embarrassment. Lacey had left, had just _left_ , and maybe it would have been worse to have to face her every day, feeling like she did and knowing it would never be reciprocated, but this way she'd lost her best friend. It had been like cutting off a limb, even after the wound healed, it still hurt and it was so hard to figure out how to regain balance without it.

"If you had reasons, you had reasons," Ruby said, but the memories of how much she wanted to yell and shake her for disappearing, made the words taste like lies. "And I’m not going to blame you for freaking out about... about the other thing. Not when it took me six months to try to face you again.”

Lacey still wouldn't look at her. It made Ruby feel sick inside.

"You're so _nice,"_ Lacey spat.

Ruby went still. She didn't feel nice. She felt like a liar.

"Why aren't you upset with me? I lead you on like a narc, and then you trust me with something important, with your _feelings_ , and I act like you've thrown a fucking tarantula at me!"

"Lacey..."

"No, you don't get to defend me." She shook her head. "I need to apologize to you. For... so many things. And getting the shit kicked out of me doesn't mean I deserve you caring about me and forgiving me without question. Especially because I'm not _better_."

Ruby reached out, and Lacey sidestepped her touch.

"Don't you get it?" Lacey's voice was bitter. "I look at you now and I think all these stupid things, like, 'but she's so pretty, how could she like girls?' or 'well, she was always tall and kind of athletic,' or 'maybe if she just did something a little different with her hair—.' And, 'has she ever had a proper fucking if she still wants to play for the girl's team?' And I know that they don't make sense, and that I'm a horrible person for even thinking these things, but I can't not think them."

"I can't..." Ruby swallowed hard. "I can't change just because it makes you uncomfortable. But, you don't have to be around me if you don't want to be."

"What?" Lacey looked up. "No. _No_. I– shit. This is coming out all wrong."

"What do you _want_ , Lacey?" Ruby was tired. She'd hoped... but none of her hopes ever came to fruition. It was futile.

“I want to be your _friend_ again." She sounded a little desperate.

Ruby felt her eyes burn. "I want that too."

"But I can't promise that I won't do or say something stupid. I'm not... I'm not a good person. But if I could just try to fix the mess I made in Vegas, and we could just go our separate ways without me leaving nothing but damage behind me, that would be... enough, right?"

Ruby went still. "You'd go again?" But of course she would. What would she stay here for? Even if they could mend their fractured relationship, it would still be unpleasant to be around her. She'd always be the girl with the stupid crush now, and that couldn't be fun to have dogging your steps.

Lacey huffed out a small laugh. "I didn't say I'd lose your number."

This was it, wasn't it. Ruby's stomach hurt. This was all Lacey could offer. But she'd take it. She'd take anything, and she hated herself for it. "Stay for a while?" she asked. "Stay until we..." _go back to how it used to be._ But that was impossible. "Until we sort things out?"

Lacey nodded. "Even if I'm not very good at it, I want to act like your friend. I don't want to be that critical, jealous person that I was in Vegas. I don't have the right to judge your life. I don't even have the facts. I promised you that I'd be at your side when you got married, and if I haven't fucked that up irrevocably, I want to keep that promise." She sighed. "I've broken enough promises to fill a life's worth. I just want to be here for you. I want to support you. I don't want to be the shitty friend who cuts you down, and insults your sexuality, and tells you that your reasoned, sensible life choices are stupid."

Ruby huffed out something that was a little too strangled to be a laugh. "I dunno," she said. "Maybe they are stupid. Maybe I need someone to tell me that."

"Well," Lacey offered her a half smile. "I'll try to be objective about it at least, and not speak out of my pain."

Ruby blinked at the odd phrasing. "I can take that," she said.

Lacey looked down at her shoes and then back up again. "Is that alright then? Friends?"

"Friends," Ruby said. It hurt, not just the fact that it proved she never had a chance for anything more, but also because it was so obviously hard for Lacey to be here, to offer that. She didn't want it to be hard. It had never been before. But things were different now, and Ruby felt a new sense of loss, for an easy companionship she thought she'd already mourned, but hadn't truly realized was unrecoverable.

Lacey stepped toward her, and then stopped, her face showing sudden doubt, like she wanted touch, but was unsure if it would be accepted. "I've missed you," she said.

Ruby swallowed, and then let go, stepping in, putting her arms around Lacey, gently, because who knew what bruising lay beneath, and burying her nose into her curls. She held on, wishing she never had to let go. "I missed you too."

There was a huff of breath into her ear, a little choked, and Lacey's arms closed around her.

It was a stupid thought, but Ruby couldn't help but think it. No wonder marrying this girl had been so easy. She was already tied to her, chained by the heart.

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

Ruby met Peter on the cliffs near a small white house. He was standing there, looking out at the sea.

“Hey.”

Peter glanced over, then glanced at the house. “I’ve been looking at houses, you know,” he said.

Ruby nodded slowly, uncomfortable.

“I thought we’d be married by now, and then living together. I put in an offer on this one. You said you liked it, didn’t you?”

Ruby nodded. “I do like it. It’s beautiful.” It was the perfect Maine fisherman’s cottage. A little run down in places, but no more than they could fix up. Not too big but with an upstairs with two bedrooms, enough space for a kid or two. And the idea of buying it, of putting down roots, it shifted inside of her, sometimes attractive, exciting, frightening, sometimes binding, suffocating, wrapping around her throat like it wanted to choke her, cut off the part of her that needed to run.

Maybe she was more like her mother than she thought. But unlike her mother, she was more afraid of being alone. She wasn't sure if she wanted Peter anymore. But the hollowness that had made her doubt this decision had changed into a crater in her stomach. Peter couldn't fill it, but the dormant hope that Lacey could was gone as well. She didn't know if she still had Peter, but she didn't have anybody else.

“Didn’t get it, but maybe that’s a good thing. If this isn’t going to work out.” His voice was bitter and he wouldn't look at her.

“Peter,” Ruby protested. She'd done this to him, acting without thinking, saying yes to all the wrong things. He turned half toward her, his dark eyes clouded with hurt.

It wasn’t fair – her own feelings weren’t fair. But Lacey wasn’t competition anymore. Lacey didn’t want her. There was no reason to hang onto those feelings, to care more for her than for Peter. They were in different categories. Lacey was her... almost friend, and Peter was her lover – her husband to be. “It can still work out. I love you.”

And she did, didn't she? She'd said it before. It had felt true then. Nothing had _changed_ , not really. She missed the warm affection in his eyes. She needed _someone_.

He looked over at her, his gaze softening. “I believe you,” he said. “But I don’t think you love me as much as I love you.” And there was his doubt again. You could only go so long pining after someone without thinking disappointment was the natural state of being.

“Maybe not,” Ruby said. No more lies. “But I don’t know if I could love anyone as much as you love me. If I would even want to." It made you vulnerable. Caring that much was just opening yourself up to hurt, seeking it out. "I don’t know if anyone could love that much." She laughed without much humor. "Except maybe Mary Margaret.”

Peter grimaced, not meeting her eyes, and Ruby felt another stab of guilt in her stomach. This wasn’t his fault. Making it be about him was excusing her own responsibility. “I did something stupid. I do a lot of stupid things. You _know_ that about me. And I can’t be with you if I’m always going to have to be trying to live up to this great love you have for me. I will make mistakes. If you can’t accept that… sometimes I wonder if you love me at all, if you can’t accept me for being _human_.”

Peter’s eyes went wide and hurt. “Do you really feel that way?”

“That your love is a demarcation line I need to live up to? One that’s so much higher than I can reach?” Ruby looked away. “Yes, sometimes.”

Peter swallowed, his adam's apple moving up and down as the lump passed through his throat. “Is that why you married someone else? Because you were feeling trapped?”

And here she was, blaming him for it. Ruby tried to smile, to make light of it. “I married someone else because I was really drunk. So, unbelievably drunk. And it was a mass ceremony, with a lot of champagne, and I just got caught up in things. The person I was with thought it would be funny to actually send in the license. It should never have happened at all, but I didn’t do it to betray you.”

Peter sighed. "I don't know if I can believe that. I don't know if I can understand why you would do something like that. But I never understood why you did what you did in high school, and I loved you anyways."

"I'm sorry," Ruby said.

"I know." Peter looked at her, letting out a little sigh. "You're right, though. I need to be able to forgive your mistakes. And you didn't..." his face darkened, jaw-muscle twitching, "you didn't sleep with him."

" _No,_ " Ruby said. No. That wasn't ever going to happen again.

"Then lets work this out." Peter stepped into her and pulled her into his arms. It felt close and warm, and he smelled earthy and calming. It wasn’t the rich, wild heady scent of Lacey’s expensive shampoo, or her sweet chemical skin. It wasn’t the fear and desperation of losing her, having lost her, needing her back. Peter was like a rock, stable, reliable. His love was stable. And when nothing else in her life was, she needed to cling to him.

“I love you,” she murmured into his shoulder. His arms tightened around her. “Take me home, okay? Take me home.”

He was rougher than usual, but she understood why. There was a claiming to it, shoving her up against the doorjamb to his room in the house he shared with his parents. His fingers digging bruises into her arms as he held her there, kissing her roughly, pressing his hardness into her hip. He didn't bother moving to the bed, just unzipped and slid his hand up her skirt, jerking aside her underwear, and pushing two fingers inside of her, not noticing, or maybe not caring about her flinch. Then he'd hooked his hands under her knees, lifted her up, and fucked her against the wall.

She let him claim her, mark her, wanting it to mean something, to change something. But it was just sex. It wouldn’t make him trust her. It wouldn’t stop her from wanting more than him and the life he wanted to give her. It was the kind of sex she'd had enough of, the kind where you didn't make eye-contact, the kind where there was nothing that stopped you from feeling alone.

Ruby just wished she didn't have to feel so alone.

* * *

Granny was scowling, leaning over the counter and watching closely as Lacey came in. Lacey hesitated in the doorway, but she'd learned long ago that showing fear got you nowhere with Granny. She strode up to the counter, taking a seat on a stool right across from the dragon. She didn’t take off her sunglasses.

“Hey,” Lacey said. “Long time no see.”

“Yes. Somehow,” Granny drawled, “I haven’t caught you halfway down the tree outside my granddaughter’s window for nearly a decade.”

“Oh, you know you always preferred catching me than some boy,” Lacey tossed back with a grin.

“Well, I’d thought so, until a little birdie mentioned that you and my Ruby eloped.”

Lacey froze, her hands tightening on the bar and growing white at the knuckles.

She knew about it.

What did she _think_ about it? Did she think it was real? that Lacey was into it? that she'd been hooking up with Ruby all through high school?

“I don’t think eloped is the right word.”

Granny snorted. “Then what is?”

Lacey looked away. Saying 'I fucked around with your granddaughter's heart with no intention of following through?' would get her shot. She knew, first hand, that Granny had a rifle under that counter. And she didn't want to say it, because she didn't want it to be true. She'd hurt too many people already. This time, she'd just like to _not_ leave Ruby a broken mess behind her.

“Here’s the truth of it, girl. I don’t like you.”

Lacey swallowed, still staring at her hands. She deserved that.

“You’ve always been trouble. You’ve always gotten Ruby into things she never should have gotten into. And you fucked off, for near ten years, and I don’t know if you were already screwing around with her, or if it was just one of those romantic friendships some girls have, but you broke her heart.”

“I know,” Lacey said.

“No, no. Shut up ‘til I’m finished, girl. I don’t like you. I don’t like what you pushed Ruby into. But I like it that you pushed.”

Slowly, the tune seemed to be changing. Lacey looked up, puzzled. “What?”

Granny raised a threatening eyebrow and held up a quelling finger. “This Peter boy, he’s never pushed in his life. He doesn’t push Ruby and he doesn’t push himself. And I know she’s settling for him. And maybe she’s not her mother, and won’t wake up three years into a marriage and babies suddenly realizing that this is the last thing she wanted, and take off for parts unknown. But I don’t want to find out. I want her to have a choice. And if that choice has got to be you or him, I want her to be able to take it.”

Lacey couldn’t believe this. "But you hate me."

Granny raised an eyebrow. "If I hated you, I would have lopped off that branch on the tree outside of Ruby's window a long time ago. And truth be told, I don't know you. You were a little shit in high school. But maybe you've grown up a bit."

"But we got _married_." Granny had to care about that, didn't she? Not liking Peter was one thing, Lacey was completely on board with that, but she had to be a little uncomfortable with her granddaughter being married to a woman, right? She couldn't just not be bothered at all.

" _You_ aren't going to knock her up on accident, girly. You had enough opportunity to do that back in the day that we all would have known by now. And you're not going to bully her into it through 'what's normal.' I am not raising a great grandchild. The logistics of you two getting it together to make a baby are complicated enough that I'd think you'd be pretty sure of what you're doing."

Lacey just gaped in horror. Granny really didn't care, did she? And that weirdly felt like a weight lifted that she hadn't known was there. But the thought of having kids at _all_ was one that filled Lacey with revulsion. The thought of having kids with Ruby was far, far more complex. The thought of Ruby having them with Peter...

Lacey shook her head. “No,” she said. “I can’t do that. I can’t. I promised her I wasn’t going to be an asshole about this. I was going to be supportive. I can’t criticize her choices, because really, what ground do I have to stand on? I have five thousand bucks and an NA chip. That’s my living free and wild life in cold hard cash. I don’t have anything to _give_ her.”

Granny gave her a look. “I’m not asking for a dowry.”

“I’m not even gay!” It came out too loud, and Lacey looked around, trying to see who might have overheard. Did Granny _want_ Ruby to end up with a mess like her? If she did, she was an idiot. “I’m not an alternative. I’m just… stopping here, trying to make things a little better, not leave the only person who ever really gave a shit about me hating me. But I’m gone after this, after she’s settled, when she’s happy. She won’t need me then. She won’t care that I’m not around.”

The words were bitter, but they were true. Ruby shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t need her. Lacey was damaged goods, always had been. And it was almost too hard to be here, to be somewhere which felt like home but never could be.

Granny didn’t respond right away, just gave her a long look. “We’ve got an extra room in the back,” she said.

Lacey looked up, blinked, confused. “What?”

Granny shrugged. “Your five thousand dollars won’t get you that far if you’re staying at the fancy hotel. You stay in our backroom, I’ll give it to you for fifty bucks a week. And you walk down to the Rabbit Hole and I bet they’re looking for bartenders. We can’t keep kids in their twenties in Storybrooke for love nor money.”

“You want me to stay?” Lacey asked, not believing this.

Granny poked her in the forehead, and, in surprise, Lacey nearly fell off of her stool. “I want you to get your shit together. I want you to be there for my granddaughter, however you think you can do that. Be ‘supportive,’ if you must. Be critical if you can. If you want to be in her pants or up her skirt or whatever metaphor the kids are using today, well, I’m not going to say anything against it. Married couples should do what they like. But you married her. You’re family now. And family doesn’t let family starve, unless they really deserve it.”

Lacey felt her throat close. She couldn’t… Was this all because they were married? “It was an accident.”

“Do you love her?”

“I— She’s my best friend. She’s… How could I _not_?”

“Did you make her a promise? That you’d stand by her and protect her and look after her as best you could?”

Lacey nodded. And if she always planned to run away, to not quite see it through, that didn’t make it untrue. She’d made the promise.

“Then all right, granddaughter-in-law. What do you want to eat? Rehashing this is making me tired.”

“Um, waffles?” Lacey asked. She couldn’t really think about food. She couldn’t think of anything. Why was Granny Lucas treating her like this, like she’d married into the family? Granny was as stern as they got. Back in high school she was always threatening Lacey and throwing things at her until she got out of the tree, and looking disparagingly at her when she came in early to wake Ruby up and found her still there. She’d given her the weirdest hangover remedies, and scolded her when she let a responsibility slide.

Lacey swallowed hard. Granny had always been more of a parent to her than her own parents had. And now she was saying that Lacey belonged. She was family.

Lacey couldn’t stay married to Ruby. She couldn’t push her away from Peter, if she had no intention of offering herself as a substitute. But it felt harder and harder to move, knowing that she had to end this, when the side benefits were things she never knew were possible, but were things she desperately wanted to keep.

A plate of waffles landed with a thump on the table in front of her, followed by Granny flipping over her cup and pouring her hot tea. The waffles had fried banana pieces on them, and whipped cream. That had been her favorite in high school. She hadn't found a place that did it right since.

Lacey swallowed down the lump in her throat and looked up. Granny raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Thank you," Lacey said.

"Will wonders never cease?" Granny drawled. "Is Lacey French developing manners?"

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

There was a marquee being set up outside the school, a banner, Welcome Back Class of 2005, it read. Lacey settled onto the stump in the old smoking circle and let out a breath. _Welcome back_ , it said. But it wasn't Lacey's class. Hers would be next year. Not that she was likely to receive the invitation. Who would be able to find her address, track her down in her peripatetic lifestyle, with her different names?

Lacey pulled out her new driver's license, rubbing her thumb over the big blue letters that spelled NEVADA. Isabelle Lucas. In retrospect it was embarrassing, how much she'd wanted that name. She hadn't even given it a second thought. She'd filled out the form, admired the way the name looked, and sent it in. Maybe she'd always wanted to be a Lucas.

Everything was so difficult now. There had been one shining moment where she'd felt safe and happy and _hopeful_ , like maybe things were going to change for the better. She had _Ruby_ back. Knowing that, she'd let herself forget about all the intervening years, forget that there was no way to leave behind the baggage she'd collected in the interim, forget that she couldn't have Ruby the way she used to. What way had that been, really?

It had felt like something you only got once, and then only if you were lucky. She'd had a partner, always at her side, encouraging the good ideas... well, not always good, but entertaining at least, and making sure the bad ones didn't turn out too bad. She needed that, she'd learned when she left for college: Lacey was shit at decisions on her own.

She'd had that Ruby back, for one night. Had her right hand man, her councilor, her goddamn fucking _knight_. Of course she'd sent the marriage license in. She'd wanted to make those bonds real, visible, tangible, if only for a moment, if only until reality caught back up and she remembered that Ruby was too good for her now, and she deserved better.

The other things marriage entailed? She hadn't even considered them. She'd never thought that more with Ruby was an option. How could there be more than what they had already? And Lacey wanted to be angry, wanted to snap at Ruby that her stupid feelings had messed up something that was perfect, but also that she shouldn't be trying to marry a guy anyway, because she was _Lacey's_ and no one got to be more important to her than Lacey.

Fucking Peter Shepherd. He had been an ass in high school, the worst sort of nice-guy, who held himself so high above the rabble, looking down on the people who knew how to party, but not smart enough to be one of the 'good students.' He was always there with a condescending comment and a hand for a hungover, broken-hearted cute girl, putting himself up as the better option. And when things didn't go his way, he'd tantrum like a child, punching lockers and screaming 'til he was red in the face.

He'd always had a thing for Ruby, and Lacey had driven him off more than once. Ruby could fuck who she wanted, but she could be too nice, and Lacey was never going to let anyone who would use her politeness and guilt against her get near.

Well, she'd fucked up that one.

Maybe he was different now. Maybe he was better. But if he wasn't, she was going to _kill_ him.

"Well, well. Shall I write you up for loitering?"

Lacey's head jerked up, and her automatic reaction to a badge had her on her feet and a step away before she recognized the person in the sheriff's uniform. "Oh," she said and made a face. "Emma, right?"

The blonde woman grinned like a bit of an idiot. "Didn't expect to see you in town."

Lacey smiled tightly and shrugged. "Gotta clean up my messes, right?"

"Very civic minded of you."

"Yeah, well."

"It's getting late," Emma said. "Not supposed to let randos linger on school property after six."

Lacey swallowed, glancing once more at the marquee, and the school, unchanged, like a red-brick block in her gut. "I was thinking of heading back to town anyway."

"Want to walk with me?"

Lacey frowned, suspicious. "Not particularly." But she fell in beside her anyway.

They walked for a few blocks without exchanging a word, until Lacey gave in. "What do you think of Peter?" she asked. "You think he's good enough for her?"

Emma gave her an odd half smile. It felt suggestive in some way, and Lacey bristled, but couldn't accuse her of suggesting something when she didn't know what it was. "He's all right. Cute in a scruffly way. They get along. And, well, Mary Margaret mentioned it, but I couldn't unsee it afterward. Sometimes, when he's looking at her, he has this expression, like he can't believe how lucky he is, like she's shiny, or something, and he can't look away."

Lacey scowled. "He'd better look at her like that. He doesn't deserve her. I _hope_ he appreciates his luck."

Emma laughed. "You guys are so weird."

Lacey pinched her lips together. "What do you mean?"

"She's in love with you, and you look like you'd commit murder for her, and you still can't figure your shit out."

"She's not in love with me. Not me now. And there isn't any shit to figure out. I'm not attracted to her."

"Really?" Emma raised an eyebrow. "Not ever? Because I know you blacked out the fact that you two banged, but somehow I don't think Ruby was the one to initiate. I don't think she would have freaked out that much if it had been her idea."

"So I was the one who made the first move? I led her on? This is all my fault?"

"Hey! I'm not blaming anyone here. I'm just saying it's depressing to be around so much repressed bisexuality."

"I"m not repressed." Lacey looked away grimly. "And it's not like I'm just knee-jerking, saying I'd never fuck a girl, saying Ruby's lying because it never happened. It's not like I haven't had my share of three-ways. I've done stuff. My ex loved to watch. It doesn't do anything for me."

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Fondling a girl's boobs while a dude jerks himself doesn't really count."

Lacey huffed out an annoyed breath. Maybe it didn't. It was always a show. You had to be ready, just do enough until he wanted the attention for himself, and then you started up the other show.

It wasn't like she wasn't used to having sex with someone she wasn't attracted to. She was attracted to money, and she used to be attracted to drugs. The physical attributes of the person who had them were mostly irrelevant.

And she'd always known Ruby was beautiful, but that didn't mean she wanted to _bang_ her. Lacey glared at Emma and stomped a few steps ahead. "God. It doesn't matter! What is wrong with you people anyway? You, Granny, it's like you want us to hook up! At least Mary Margaret has the right idea. She wants me a hundred miles away from Ruby at the _least,_ even if it's only because she thinks I'm the devil. You seem to think that us getting married is something real, that we could actually have a life together."

"Couldn't you?" Emma asked. "I mean, hypothetically, if you were down for it with Ruby, couldn't you just live your lives, together? Doing your own thing, dealing with your own shit, but not having to be alone when you head home at night."

There was an unpleasant tightness in Lacey's throat. "Even if I was 'down with it,' even if I was like," She could only think of Ruby dancing with her, all motion and curves, and her eyes, meeting Lacey's, the wolfish grin, her touch, and the press of her lips, the desperation in the kiss at sunrise. "Like, oh babe, I want your... mouth... on me," she swallowed, uncomfortable. "It's not marriage, right? It's just stupid girls passing time with each other until a real option comes along."

"Fuck no!" Emma snapped, and the cheerful, stupid expression was gone. "Didn't you get married at a crazy Pride event? Didn't you see any of the other people there? The ones who had been waiting for _years_ for the other idiots in the world to realize that they'd been as good as married all this time, that marriage isn't about other people's opinions, it's about you, and your girl, and being family, and that's _it_."

Lacey stepped back at the force of it. "Okay," she said. "If you say so."

Emma grimaced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go all rage and fury on you. But that's kind of one of the worst things to hear. Your feelings aren't real, your relationships aren't real, you're going through a phase. Phobe bullshit."

"Wait. So _you're_ —”

Emma huffed out a laugh. "Yeah. And you know, that's clearly why I'm want you two to get together. Double toasters for a wedding!" She jogged ahead to catch the crossing light, and Lacey gaped after her.

"Toasters? What the hell are you talking about?"

Emma laughed at her when she caught up. "Don't you know? If you convert a girl to lesbianism you get a toaster oven."

Lacey stared at her. "What?"

"I don't know," Emma shook her head. "It's a joke. An old joke."

Lacey glared. "There is no reason I would get lesbian jokes."

Emma shook her head, grinning annoyingly to herself. "It's fine. You don't have to defend yourself to me. Your sexuality is your own business, and there is nothing cut and dried about sex."

"You're saying I could change my mind?"

"I'm saying," Emma said, slowly and clearly. "That it's none of my business. You and Ruby have to sort your shit out yourself. Though," Emma made a face. "Are you really going to stand up for her if the wedding is back on?"

Lacey stilled, her shoulders slumped slightly, and she stared at the sidewalk. “Do you think she’s cut out for this,” she asked, hearing an unpleasantly vulnerable neediness in her voice, “for marriage and babies? Do you think she'll be happy?”

Emma's expression darkened and she looked steadily at Lacey. Accusingly? Perhaps. Lacey had had enough accusing gazes in her lifetime to know what they looked like.

“What are her options?” Emma asked. “She’s a waitress. She got her BA, got her dream job, and then her grandmother had a minor heart attack. She came home to take care of her, got fired, and had to stay.”

Lacey straightened, frowning, confused. “And she never tried again?”

“I think she was scared of losing what she had.” Emma's gaze was unavoidable. “She lost you. She lost her job, and she lost her dreams for the future. She almost lost her Granny, and I think that would have been too much. Peter’s stable. He’s here. She can hold on more tightly now.”

Fighting off the unpleasant embrace of guilt, Lacey narrowed her eyes. “You think I fucked her up, that disappearing freshman year made her like this. Clingy and scared of loss.”

Emma shook her head. “I think life makes us that way. But you didn’t help. Why _did_ you disappear?”

Lacey narrowed her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

“Is it Ruby’s business?” Emma asked her sharply. “Have you talked to her about it?”

Lacey turned away. “It’s not her business either. I’m here to see her settled and go. I’m not going to put my shit on her. She doesn’t need that.”

“You’re going to leave?”

“Do you really think there’s a place for me here? Ruby’s going to get married and then probably," she grimaced, "knocked up, and I’m not going to be her fucking nanny. She doesn’t need me. She never has.”

Emma looked at her, and there was an uncomfortable understanding in her eyes. "I get it," she said. "I've been burned too. Taking off is easy, for us. But, well, Ruby's different. She doesn’t want to lose the people that she loves.”

“So I’m going to hurt her again?”

Emma shook her head slowly, considering. “I just wonder," she said, "if Ruby trying to hold on is healthier than you, trying so hard to let go of everything and everyone who cares about you.”

Lacey went stiff. She'd heard that before. “Don’t psychoanalyze me.” She'd had enough of court-appointed shrinks, she didn't need amateurs.

“Oh, I’m not.” Emma punched her shoulder lightly, jarringly familiar. “If I were, I’d wonder how repressed you have to be to get accidentally gay married to your best friend.”

Lacey flipped her off and stomped away.

* * *

There were small bruises coming out on the pale skin of her arms. Ruby sighed, drying off after the shower. This was what she had. It was nothing quite like she what wanted. Lacey was back, but she was a stranger. She'd smoothed things over with Peter, but it felt meaningless. She was itching again, itching to run, because this town was a trap.

"I'm going out!" Granny shouted, banging on the bathroom door. "Don't accidentally marry someone else while I'm at bingo!"

"You don't play bingo!" Ruby shouted back. She was going out to the shooting range with two of her other crazy rifle-obsessed friends and then out to dinner. God, her grandmother had more fun than she did.

"Oh, and your wife might show up. Told her she could have the back room. If you're not planning on consummating tonight, change the sheets. If you are, shut your damn window, I can hear everything that goes on in there."

Ruby slipped on the wet tile.

When she emerged, the house was empty, too quiet. She padded down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. She hardly used it anymore. It was always easier to just go into the diner and have the short order cook throw something together. But for a while kitchens had been her place. She stared at the stove, wondering how long she'd been waiting for someone to come and shake her, to tell her to not give up on the things she loved. She'd been waiting for Lacey, hadn't she? Huddling at home, hoping she'd come back and they could fix things, pick things up where they'd left them, go out in seek of adventure together. But Lacey was back now, and there weren't any good excuses for her disappearance, no - I was kidnapped by aliens, I fell into a time slip, I... fell in love with you and couldn't deal with the emotional fallout. There were no reasons at all. None volunteered, at least, and Ruby didn't want to press, because pressing would mean she'd have to hear the truth Lacey didn't want to tell, hear what she both feared and knew was true, that she just wasn't as important to Lacey as Lacey was to her.

She looked in the empty fridge, sighed, and closed her eyes. No point in making an effort. Not now. It was too late.

She headed towards the front door, planning on grabbing a kebab or something, from the middle eastern place down the road. It swung open, onto Lacey, standing there, with a small black suitcase next to her, staring down at her hands.

Ruby heard herself make a small sound of surprise, because it was still a surprise, every time she saw her. Lacey looked up, wide eyed. "Oh," she said. "Hi."

"Hi." Ruby said, swallowing. "Um, were you standing out here long?"

Lacey flashed a wry grimace. "Not... that long."

"Granny said you might be moving into the back room?"

"I... hadn't decided yet."

Ruby bristled slightly, hating that it might have to do with her. Did Lacey not want to be around her, now that she knew? Did she not want to sleep in the same house with doors that didn't lock?

"I don't want to... take more from you than I already have."

Jolted, Ruby looked up. "What? _No_."

Lacey met her eyes, mouth tight, so much anger in her face. But it could only be directed at herself. "Haven't I done enough?"

 _Yes. You left_. Ruby bit back the words and swallowed hard. They needed to move forward, not back. "Weren't we going to try and be friends again?"

"That doesn't mean living in your house." Lacey's voice was rough with something like bitter laughter. "Your grandmother offered it, but if you don't want me here, I can go. It's what you want that matters."

"I want you," Ruby said, and then felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "Here. I want you to stay here."

Lacey's mouth slid up into a half grin, the grin was a familiar one. It wasn't the first time Ruby had said something stupid in front of her. It... hopefully, wouldn't be the last. "And I want... to not be broke as quickly."

Ruby laughed, letting the joke wash away the tension. "Then stop hovering and come in."

She led her in to the back room and watched as Lacey stepped in, looking around, taking a breath.

"Okay," Lacey said. She glanced over at Ruby, a wry smile on her face. "I've lived in worse. Lots worse."

Ruby smiled back, wondering, really, what that meant. She knew so little of what had happened in between them losing touch and then meeting again. But the half hints and unremarked comments didn't sound good.

The bruising on her face was still the worst of it. But in the light, she looked different, hollower. Not skinnier, but still somehow unhealthy, like she didn't eat properly. The nutrition classes had been a long time ago, but you could see it in people's skin sometimes, if they were eating real food or fake, if they slept well. She frowned deeply.

"Hey," Ruby said. Lacey looked over. "Why don't you get set up here. I'm going to run to the store and get things to cook. You'll join me, right?" She forced a smile. "It's boring, cooking for one."

Lacey was looking at her, something unexpectedly soft in her expression, and then she nodded. "Okay."

"Good."

 

Maybe Ruby had gotten overexcited about kale.

She destemmed and chopped and heard Lacey's footsteps come into the kitchen.

She relaxed into the work. She loved this. She'd forgotten how much. Things were heating, shallots sizzling.

"Pass me the honey, 'kay?"

"I don't–" A few moments later the bottle clunked onto the counter beside her. "Apparently I do know where things are in this kitchen."

"Muscle memory," Ruby said, twisting off the cap and glancing back to offer her a grin. Lacey smiled back. "Nothing changes in this town."

The strips of salami were sizzling in the pan. "God that smells good. It's not bacon?"

Ruby shook her head. "Better."

The kale was caramelizing with the shallots in the soy-sauce and honey, the soba was boiling and the kitchen was starting to smell like a real kitchen again.

She'd missed this.

"You know," Lacey said. "It's not true that nothing changes here. You've changed."

Ruby looked over. "Have I?"

'You didn't do this before," Lacey said, gesturing to the mess on the counter. "I don't think I ever saw you near the stove."

Ruby looked down at the stems of the tuscan kale left on the cutting board. "I found out I liked it in college. It was... what I wanted to do." She shook it off before the natural follow up question could be asked. _Why wasn't she doing it?_ "So, good change or bad?"

"Good change," Lacey said, and stole a strip of fried salami. She savored it. "Cook for me any time."

"You're on." It felt like an empty conversation. This wasn't going to last. Granny might make jokes about them being married, but Lacey wasn't planning on sticking around. They didn't have a future together, not any kind of one, not even one where they could promise to visit. Did they?

Lacey's eyes fell on her, clear behind their dark lashes, something unreadable on her face.

She'd been like that before, so full of secrets. But Ruby had pressed and pushed and wormed her way in until she knew every look, every soft place inside of her. And now she was back on the outside again, kept away.

But Lacey was here now, for a while at least. Ruby had worked her way inside once. How hard could it be to do it again?

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Lacey leaned back against the counter and watched as Ruby moved, straightforward and precise, around the stove, fire and blades at her fingertips. Her hair was a messy knot on the back of her head, the back of her shirt damp, clinging to her straight shoulders, small water droplets still lingering on her neck.

And when she worked, her focus intense, chopping and mixing, and whatever else - Lacey had managed to burn ramen once - there was a twitch to the corner of her mouth, an expression on her face that wasn't a smile, really, it wasn't the wide, brash wolf-grins that Lacey had once been the recipient of, but she looked at peace, satisfied.

It made Emma's words beat rhythms in her head. _She lost you. She lost her job, and she lost her dreams for the future._ She hadn't looked calm like this since Lacey had ran into her in Vegas. She didn't smile as much anymore. She hadn't looked happy.

Maybe there had been one time... sitting across the table in some random diner, just looking at her long-lost best friend, sweaty and tired and a little drunk, able to believe that for once, everything was going to be okay.

Lacey hadn't made everything okay. She'd made it worse. She didn't want to make Ruby's life worse anymore. But that was all she did. After checking out of the hotel, Lacey had been inches away from getting on the bus and getting out of town. It was only Emma's too perceptive insight that running was what she always did that had made her wait on the doorstep, hesitating until she was caught.

Ruby turned, setting plates with perfect coils of noodles, topped with half-caramelized kale, flecks of salami, and perfectly shaped fried eggs on the table.

She looked suddenly shy, and Lacey didn't wait for her to apologize for something that looked like it should be on a restaurant menu. She simply finished pouring drinks and sat down.

"Fuck, this is good." Who would have thought that Lacey would eat _kale_ without complaint. But really, it was amazing.

"Thanks." She smiled, ducking her head slightly so a strand of hair fell across her face. Lacey felt her throat close for a moment, and had to stop eating just to stare at her.

But staring was weird. She looked at her plate, not wanting to make eye-contact, instead trying to make a lot of appreciative sounds about the food.

When she looked up again, Ruby was watching her, conflict easy to see in her eyes. But Lacey didn't know what to say to fix it. She didn't know what Ruby _wanted_ from her. She wanted her around, that seemed clear. But did she really want Lacey? Or did she want the girl she'd hoped could love her? And honestly, whatever Lacey had said to Emma, inside she knew that the problem wasn't loving Ruby, the problem wasn't _Ruby_ at all.

"So," Ruby said, her voice all odd as the dinner was turning into empty plates. "What do you do for fun these days?"

Lacey huffed out an amused breath. She spoke without thinking. "When did this turn into an awkward first date?"

The words rang in the air, and she groaned internally.

 _Don't say the word date. Don't lead her on like that, you idiot._ And honestly, it was the dumbest question in the world. The awkwardness, the unfamiliarity, what else did she expect? "Nope, you really don't have to answer that question."

Ruby looked down. "I want to know who you are, now."

"No one special." The words sounded bitter, but they were only true.

Ruby's mouth and forehead tensed like she wanted to cut in, wanted to tell Lacey just how wrong she was. But accepting that sort of comfort, that support, when Lacey hadn't, _couldn't,_ tell her the truth, it just felt like manipulation. "But, ummmm, I read a lot of trashy novels?"

Ruby let out a huff of laughter. "What kind of trashy?"

"Murder mysteries, of course!" Lacey grinned. "Pretty much anything with crime in it. No cozies though. No cats."

"You like cats."

"I _am_ a cat. My brethren are not my friends. And I don't want cats solving my mysteries. It makes me feel inferior."

"I can understand that." Ruby smiled, properly smiled, and it shouldn't have sent a thrill of pleasure up Lacey's spine. But it did. So fuck it. Who cared?

* * *

"This looks cozy."

Lacey tensed, looking up to find Granny in the doorway, surveying the occupants of the living room. After dishes, they had relocated to the couch, put on the radio where someone was telling a weird story about why multigenerational family cruises were the worst idea ever.

Maybe it was cozy, not quite leaning against each other, but touching, at the hip, at the shoulder, just enough to know you weren't alone. Lacey almost let herself feel like she had that night in Vegas, like this was how it was meant to be, like she might actually deserve to have someone care about her as much as Ruby did.

But then, of course, Granny sauntered in and had to comment.

"She taking care of you?"

"I..." Lacey stared. "Yeah. She cooked me dinner."

Granny raised an eyebrow, her eyes turning to Ruby. "That's nice. And rare. I never see you cooking anymore."

Ruby glowered. "You wouldn't let me take the short-order shift."

"That would be a perfect way to make you hate it." Granny eyed Lacey. "What do you think? Think she's any good?"

"Yeah," Lacey said sharply. "She's excellent." She looked over at Ruby, frowning. "I don't know why she isn't cooking professionally."

"You wouldn't let me," Ruby said to Granny, looking away, her tone half a whine.

"If you're hankering after flipping flapjacks you can do it in a lot more places than my diner, grandchild."

Lacey looked back and forth between them, both as stubborn as bulls, and swallowed. Emma was right, Ruby was holding on, and Granny wanted her to stop. That was why she wanted Lacey to push.

"I think you could," Lacey said, turning to Ruby, putting her hand on her knee. "I think you could make it anywhere."

Ruby looked at her, eyes widening in surprise. "I'm not that good."

"You could get that good, if you wanted to."

Lacey flicked her gaze to Granny and caught her eye. Granny gave a nearly imperceptible nod of approval. Lacey's face flushed. She felt a little duplicitous, but, well, she supposed she owed Granny enough to say some of the things she felt. It might have no effect. And as long as she believed it, no reason not to say it, right?

It didn't mean she was on offer.

It didn't even mean she was going to stay.

* * *

Peter was sitting in the park, waiting. Ruby carefully came up and sat down beside him. Everything felt tentative now, uncomfortable, and it was so hard to be around him. She either wanted things to be back to normal, casual and easy, or to just cut and run. Even after fucking him, lying in bed together had been stiff and silent and awkward.

At least with a one night stand you could just leave.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey." He didn't look at her, still staring at something he held in his hand.

Ruby looked down and saw him staring at a card, it was a familiar card, because she'd seen Mary Margaret working on them for weeks. It was the invitation to Peter and Mary Margaret's tenth year high school reunion. Ruby grimaced. Hers was next year. It was all too soon. You were supposed to be an adult at your ten year, weren't you? Ruby was just a mess.

“Before all this,” Peter said, “I'd hoped we'd be married by now.”

A tiny bitter thought of – was that why you asked me? Was that what got you off your ass? - whispered in the back of Ruby's head. If it sounded like some cross between Lacey and her grandmother, well, so much more reason to ignore it.

“And I know things are a bit of a mess. But… are we still engaged?”

Ruby blinked and looked sharply at him. “Aren't we?”

Peter frowned. “I don't know. You're married to someone else. Are you allowed to be engaged while you're married?”

Ruby put her hand to her forehead, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don't know. I didn't… if we didn't break the engagement, it's still ongoing, right?”

Peter looked tired. “I don't know either. I just, I want to go to the reunion with you. I want to tell people you're my fiancée. I don't want anyone to know about this mess. If we could just pretend...”

“Of course I'll go with you,” Ruby said. “And no one is going to know. Emma's not going to tell, and do you really think Mary Margaret would? We'll get through this. And… I will find an awesome dress, and be totally all over you, and all your friends will be super jealous.”

Peter didn't laugh, and Ruby shut her eyes and wished she could just get on a bus and leave, leave all her stupid mistakes behind.

"Thanks," he said, a slightly bitter tone in his voice.

Ruby looked away. "You shouldn't have had to ask. I wish..." She wished hard that she could have made the right decisions to begin with. What those were... refuse him at the beginning? Burn the marriage license before Lacey ever saw it? Never go to Vegas at all? She didn't know.

She felt a touch on her hand. Peter was holding it, pressing it gently. "I get it," he said. "And it's okay. I mean... it's not _okay_. But, once this is all sorted out, we can go back to the way we were. I mean, it's not like that guy you married, whoever he is, is _here_. He didn't come to fight for you. I know I can be... jealous. But I'm not so immature as to succumb when there clearly isn't any competition."

Ruby went stone-still. No guy, that was true enough, and Lacey hadn't come here to fight for her. But she _was_ here.

She was here.

* * *

Lacey stepped out of the Rabbit Hole, blinking at the afternoon light, and grimacing at the recollection of her meeting with Killian. He'd let rip with the snide comments when he saw her. “What? You back? Weren't you going to have made it big by now?”

“Well, no one ever expected much of you,” Lacey had snapped back. “But still working here? I hope you at least don't crash the high school parties anymore.”

Then Killian had laughed, and nodded when she asked about a job. “Sure. There's always an opening. I can put you on the roster for tonight if you want. $5 an hour plus tips, yeah? You won't have a problem getting tips.” He leered.

Lacey just rolled her eyes. “Fine. Sign me up.”

The worst part was how understanding he had been. He got it. He recognized her for what she was, a loser just like him. That was the other reason to never go home again. Ugh.

She looked ahead, and saw, in the park, on the bench under the tree, the outline of Ruby, which she could recognize anywhere. Beside her was a young man, reasonably handsome, dark and sturdy, holding her hand and leaning close like he was considering going in for the kiss.

The adoration in the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, was obvious, and Lacey froze, unable to see someone treating her like that without feeling… feeling like she didn’t belong here. Ruby deserved to be loved like that, to be worshipped. And she could see the half-quirked smile on her face now, the unfocused gaze, the gentleness. Did she really care for him? Could she? But if she said she would marry him, how could she not?

Lacey clenched her hands into fists. Her eyes couldn't pull away from the curve of Ruby's mouth. She’d kissed that mouth, only a few days ago, kissed it twice. Once had been an accident, but the second time she’d just wanted to kiss her, wanted to taste the girl that made her feel so much more like herself than she had in years. And she’d had her too, once. She wished she remembered what it had been like. Because it was _Ruby._ You didn't just throw out a gift like that, even if it wasn't what you thought you wanted. Ruby had said that she used to love her, and Lacey couldn’t help but wonder what that would have been like, to be loved by her. Would she have been able to love her back?

The wrenching feeling in her gut at seeing Ruby and Peter together made it seem far too likely that she could have. She wouldn’t have been any good for Ruby, of course. She would have destroyed it, destroyed their bond - not that she hadn't anyways.

She wasn’t any good for herself either.

Then Ruby’s head turned. She caught sight of Lacey, and her face lit up. She’d bounded off the bench in a moment and had crossed the grass to catch up Lacey in her arms.

“Hey you!”

“Hey,” Lacey carefully tried to extricate herself. “Mind the bruising.”

“Oh my god, sorry,” Ruby loosed her quickly, but Lacey’s arm shot out and clasped her hand.

“Don’t be.”

For a moment, with the way Ruby was looking at her, Lacey wondered if she was going to be kissed. It was a familiar look on Ruby’s face, one that usually ended in a hug or a teasing remark, but now that she knew, it looked a lot more like one that could end in a kiss.

“Um, hey,” Peter’s voice came from behind them. And then, suddenly, it cracked. “Lacey?”

Lacey looked around Ruby and smiled at the young man who she suddenly hated, violently. “Peter,” she said, with a false charm in her words. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

“What are you doing here? What are you doing back?” He was glancing back between her and Ruby as if he _knew_ that she was the only real threat to his engagement.

“I heard my best friend in the world was getting married,” Lacey said, pulling Ruby into her side and squeezing her, slightly possessively. “And since she promised that I’d be the one to stand up for her, I figured I’d better drop in.”

“Oh,” Peter said, looking a bit bewildered. “Well, we don't really have a date right now. And we were just planning to go to the courthouse, but you could definitely be a witness.”

Lacey blinked. “You were just going to the courthouse?” She looked at Ruby. “Are you serious? You and I talked about weddings for _days_ when we were teenagers.”

“I never wanted anything fancy,” Ruby said, looking guilty and not meeting her eyes. “I wasn’t the one with six different kinds of champagne.”

“But not the _courthouse_. You were saying Tahiti, weren’t you? And even for me," Lacey tried to smile, but knew she'd only managed to show her teeth. "Bare minimum is a sunrise ceremony with champagne cocktails and a rocking band.”

Ruby went suddenly still. “Lace…”

Lacey flinched. She shouldn't have used that as a weapon. This wasn't a competition. This wasn't about their stupid, impromptu unintentional wedding. But she couldn't help feeling a little bitter that it was going to be the one that was disregarded and forgotten, when this stupid boy and the stupid courthouse were going to be the real ones, the ones that people remembered and cared about. Lacey plowed ahead. “A dress. Do you even have a dress?”

“Lacey...”

Lacey pressed her arm. “I’m your girl, Ruby. This is what I’m here for. ”

“We don’t… we don’t have a lot of money,” Peter said, hesitantly. “We thought we’d put what we have towards a house.”

Lacey looked at him, a sudden flush of hate overcoming her restraint. “There’s a difference between being frugal and being cheap. If you’re lucky, you only get married once in your life. Do you want to remember it? Do you want to have a good time?” Lacey shrugged. “It’s your choice.”

Peter’s frowned, and he looked towards Ruby. “Would you _want_ something like that?”

Ruby glanced between them, looking uncomfortable. “I mean, I love a party. But I don’t need one. And I know we can’t afford much.”

Lacey shrugged. “Do what you want. It's none of my business. But really,” She smiled. “I might run off and elope at the first chance for a good bash if my fiancé was offering me nothing but a courthouse and a mortgage.”

Peter blanched, and Lacey repressed a smile. His horrified face was a little more delightful than it should have been. But it was Ruby’s tight, miserable expression that made her pause. Lacey had turned Granny down, she’d told her that she wouldn’t try to give Ruby a choice because she'd wanted to be supportive. She wanted to be a good friend, not an asshole. This wasn't that.

You couldn't change who you were though, not the major core element of your personality, and Lacey had always been an asshole.

Ruby's sad expressions wouldn't stop her from putting pressure on him, though. He had to prove he was good enough for Ruby, and if he fell down on the job and Ruby dumped him, Lacey really wouldn’t care.

The worst part was knowing that it would be so easy to wipe that misery off of Ruby's face, if she could just say yes; yes, I love you; yes, you have me, and also knowing that those were things she was never going to be able to say.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

Ruby slumped into the booth beside Emma and groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Emma sat back and calmly sipped her coffee, not asking what was wrong.

Ruby groaned again, for emphasis. "I don't know if I can take much more of this."

"Having a wife and a mistress is indeed difficult," Emma drawled sagely. "The only question is which is the wife and which is the mistress."

Ruby glared.

"And whether or not I am going to have to arrest you for bigamy."

"I hate you."

Emma grinned, shaking her head. "Come on, tell auntie Emma your problems. I've already played analyst with your girlfriend," she paused, "excuse me, _wife_. It's your turn, babe."

Ruby let her eyes slide to the side to look at Emma, but kept her head down. "You talked to Lacey?"

"Yeah," Emma offered a sympathetic smile. "I'm rooting for you two, but though I think she cares about you more than is healthy, platonic-co-dependence may be where it ends."

Ruby hunched her shoulders, curling into a small ball. "I know."

Emma was frowning to herself. "And then she says these things that make me wonder..." Her voice was distant, almost like she hadn't intended to say the words aloud.

Ruby's hands clenched. "I _know_ ," she said, finally sitting up, and looking at Emma - well, glaring at Emma, though the anger wasn't intended for her. "I know Lacey has never liked my boyfriends, and she has always liked fucking with me, but sometimes... she says these things, and I just can't believe it. I can't deal with them. Like she was talking to Peter, teasing him, well, more bullying him, about our wedding plans. She was mocking him for not springing for anything more than the courthouse. And she was reminding me of the stupid conversations we used to have, as idiot kids, when we would plan our weddings together, and then—”

Ruby choked. She couldn't look at Emma. She didn't even want to say it, because putting it into words would be pinning it down, making it true or deniable. But she had to say something.

"What did she say?"

"She said... she said that at the very least she'd want," Ruby swallowed, "a sunrise ceremony with a rocking band and champagne cocktails."

Emma hmmed, "Sounds pretty good."

"No," Ruby said. "No. That's what _happened_. That was _us_. And she knew it. She knew what she was saying. She turned to me as she said it, she gave me this look, and I just, I wish I knew what it meant. It felt like she was saying that there could be a world in which she didn't regret it, that we could have really... really done it then, could have chosen it. And if there was any way she would have me, I would rewrite my entire fucking life so that we could have gotten married there, by choice, for _us_."

Words were pouring out, and Ruby wanted to haul them back, wanted to not sound like someone so hopeless, this pathetic person who was still messed up over a futile crush she'd had in high school.

"But she does regret it. She doesn't want me. She's the fucking straight girl you never get over. But she keeps on giving me these looks, hating on Peter, being _here_ , and I want her here. i want her as my friend again. I want that peace having her around gives me. But she keeps on making me hope, hope in spite of knowing that it's in vain, and it hurts so much. It hurts every _day._ And there's nothing here that can make it better. Peter can't and she won't, and I just need to get _away_. But I can't... _"_ Ruby swallowed. "I can't run away from myself. And she's the one I hate the most."

* * *

Mary Margaret had plans. More than plans, she had _dreams_. Well, she had one plan and one dream. And she was going to make them happen! Both of them! All she wanted was to show her classmates, idiots and losers that they were, that she, Mary Margaret, was not the girl they used to know. She was an adult now. She was a mature, attractive, hygienic woman. And even if she didn't have a boyfriend, what did that matter? They'd all be wishing they had the guts to ask her out.

It was about poise, it was about confidence, it was about throwing the best damn reunion bash Storybrooke had ever seen!

She was certain and strong in this plan up until the moment she walked into the Rabbit Hole and saw Lacey behind the bar.

Mary Margaret froze. “What are _you_ doing here?” she asked, her voice harsher than anyone had ever heard it before.

Lacey’s head turned toward her. She wasn't wearing her sunglasses, and Mary Margaret almost flinched to see the grey-brown of a fading bruise curling around the outside of her eye. That explained... something.

But then she spotted Lacey's expression, wryly incredulous, and cut off any inclination toward sympathy.

“I work here?”

Mary Margaret narrowed her gaze.

“And if you want an answer more general than that, I heard my best friend was getting married,” Lacey said. “I thought I’d come for the wedding. And for the annulment.”

Mary Margaret’s brow furrowed, “But you _work_ here? Since when? Where's Killian?”

“Since last week? He's in the back, doing inventory.”

“You're _not_ working the night of the reunion!”

Lacey looked blank. “Uh, if it's not one of my shifts?”

Mary Margaret stomped in fury. “No! You will not be here. I will not have it. These three days are my chance, to get over what _you_ did to me back in high school, and I will not let you ruin it!”

And she would ruin it. Lacey had ruined high school for her, and here she was, trying to ruin it for her all over again. There were some things you could never forgive.

Lacey raised her hands. “Whoa, calm down. I'm not trying to mess with your stuff. I'm just here for Ruby, okay?”

Mary Margaret glowered at her. “I know you better than that. You’re trouble. You love to make trouble. That’s all you are. You aren’t here to support Ruby, you’re here to ruin things.”

“It's none of your business what I'm here to do” Lacey’s lip curled. “But if you think I'm trying to make things worse for Ruby, you don't understand us at all."

Mary Margaret sneered. “You think you're so special, don't you? You think that the fact that she had feelings for you once puts you a cut above the rest. Well, guess what. Ruby doesn't need you. You might think you can jerk her around, that you can keep her or break her as you see fit, but you aren't her everything anymore. She has Peter, who loves her, she has Emma and I as _real_ friends. She has a job and a life and a future, which is more than you have. And when you finally pick up and go, she'll be fine, because you are _nothing_.”

Lacey's jaw went slack and her face started to heat up, becoming red in the cheeks and all down her neck. “What gives you the right to judge me?”

Mary Margaret scoffed. “You ruined your own life, anyone can see that, and you drag everyone down with you. I won't let you have Ruby. You'll just hurt her again. You hurt everyone in your path. You ruin _everything_.”

Lacey’s lips tightened into an icy thin line. “I’m going to do what I came here to do, and then I’ll leave. Nothing you can do or say will make a difference to that.”

Mary Margaret stared at her, wishing she could see even a touch of vulnerability in her, a touch of care. But her face showed only cruel anger. “It was so romantic, you know. Peter’s been in love with Ruby since they were children, they finally started to date, he asked her to marry him and she said yes. But then you show up, always you. All you have to do is look at Ruby looking at you to know that you could steal her away if you crooked your little finger. But you won’t. Because she’d be happy then, and you never want to make anyone happy.”

“Happy?” Lacey’s voice was hard, but it cracked a little and it was the first sympathetic emotion she’d shown in the entire conversation. “I couldn’t make her happy,” she said.

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to retort something sharply, but couldn’t think of anything to say. “You couldn’t?”

“People don’t make other people happy. You have to choose it for yourself.” Lacey put down her bar towel and stepped back toward the door. “I'll get Killian for you,” she said. She walked out, and Mary Margaret stood at the bar, utterly confused.

* * *

It felt strange, sitting on the riverbank, leaning against Lacey, drinking cheap bourbon out of a paper bag on an afternoon, throwing stones or bits of broken stick into the water. They’d spent whole summers like that once, nothing much to do but never bored, no place to be that was better than being there together. Ruby breathed out and found herself looking at Lacey, hurting at the bruises around her eyes, now fading to green and gold. Lacey turned her head, noticing her gaze and tipping her head just slightly, asking a question without words.

Ruby reached out and ran her thumb around the perimeter of the bruise, not pressing at all, not wanting it to hurt. “I hate seeing you like this, you know.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Ruby gave a half nod, not wanting to believe that, because she’d seen Lacey beaten up before, but she'd never not been able to climb up to Ruby’s window. “It’s just funny." Ruby made a face. Definitely not funny to laugh at. "Take this moment, we could be sixteen, seventeen, just the same. You’d think that things would change a bit more than this.”

Lacey shrugged. “It’s not my dad this time.” She looked away. “Maybe nothing does change. You know what they say, if you grow up with it, you seek it out. It's not on purpose, but those are the signs you look for when you’re looking for love.”

Her words made Ruby feel sick to her stomach. Lacey’s dad hadn’t hit her often, and he’d rarely touched her face, but he’d ignored her, left her to herself, given her money and freedom, but not care, not protection, nothing that she needed. And if he’d given her this future, she wanted to kill him.

“It’s kind of disgusting really,” Lacey said, her voice turning to that sharp, self-hating tone that made Ruby feel like they were on the edge of a cliff. “I did everything to escape my dad, and what did I end up running to? A rich older man who expresses his feelings through gifts and cash and beats you up if you aren’t perfect. Talk about a daddy complex.”

The conversation had gotten too serious now. They were frighteningly close to the edge. Ruby had always seen that potential in Lacey, where no matter how proud and arrogant she sounded, she was always only half a step away from deciding that she was worthless. Ruby grasped for something to break the tension.

“Oh god, don’t say that,” she said, grimacing. “If we’re attracted to people like the ones who raised us, that means I’m fated to seek out domineering ladies with sharp tongues, terrible senses of humor, and a weird obsession with projectile weaponry.”

Lacey gave her a sudden dark look. “No wonder you fell for me.”

Ruby jerked back, horrified. “Oh God! Way to scar me for the rest of my life!”

Lacey was laughing, curling over, and Ruby couldn’t help grinning back in relief, putting her arm around her and putting their heads together. It was warm, a little alcoholic and happy, and Ruby couldn’t help falling into it, just letting it encompass her. All of the crazy in her life, the struggle with trying to find a way to be happy with herself, it didn’t matter when she was with Lacey. It didn’t matter that when she was alone she cried over how much it hurt to be in love with her best friend, because when she was with her it was exactly the opposite. She felt invulnerable, even though she knew that it was only for the transient moments while they were together.

* * *

Peter was in the bar, checking his watch when Ruby came in. Ruby slid into the seat across from him and smiled. “Hey.”

He didn’t smile back. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

Ruby shut her eyes. “Sorry I’m late.” She was also a little drunk. “I was—”

“With Lacey.”

Ruby didn’t feel so drunk anymore. “I was taking her around to some of the old haunts.”

“And last time you were catching up and you forgot that we had a date.”

“That doesn’t— it’s doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’m not saying it does.” Peter shrugged. “It’s just, you were different before she came back. You were _you_. And now..."

"Now I'm her? I'm, what, acting like her?"

"No, but," Peter frowned. "Take the wedding. We had plans, and then you went to Vegas and that got derailed, but we were getting back on track. And then she shows up and suddenly you want a party, a dress, something big and showy."

"I don't..." Ruby shut her eyes. "Maybe she just encourages me to ask for what I want, not just... do the sensible thing."

“I didn’t think having a big bash was important to you.”

Ruby shrugged. “It’s not. I don’t want a fuss. But, really, the courthouse is so functional.”

Peter nodded slowly. “It is pretty functional. I guess I just, I don’t want to have to seduce you with parties and trappings. But, you married someone else. So maybe I do need to make the effort. Was that a party? Was that the sort of wedding you wanted?”

Ruby went still. “It was… in the morning,” she said. “There was a band, good drinks. We danced and…” She looked away and swallowed.

“You love that, don’t you?” Peter asked. “Dancing, going out, drinking and having fun.”

“Who doesn’t?” Ruby asked with a smile intended to be disarming. But it didn’t work.

“I don’t, not really. I love you, and I like going out with you, but I’d rather stay at home and just watch a movie, be quiet.”

It was high school all over again, wasn’t it? She’d picked Lacey over him. She’d picked parties and fun and bad decisions over his steadiness. He hadn’t been popular, hadn’t been invited to the biggest, craziest things. He’d decided that it wasn’t worth it, but Ruby wondered if he was still jealous, still bitter about it. Maybe he was mostly bitter that she hadn’t helped him, hadn’t brought him to parties, hadn’t chosen to stay in with him rather than go out with Lacey.

But was it just about that? If she looked at it clearly, she’d hardly gone out at all in the last couple years, besides a few times with him. And going out now? She’d gone out with Emma and Mary Margaret, but when she really wanted to dance, she wanted to dance with Lacey. It wasn’t the parties that she loved, it was being with Lacey, being happy and free and _young_. It wasn’t something she could keep.

“It’s not really something grown ups do, is it?” Ruby said. She laughed, but it felt forced. “Married people, going out and drinking so much they puke in the street on the way home, who does that? But just, what do you do? My job isn’t one I take home. Movies and books and hanging out are fun, but… what do people _do_? What do couples do on a normal night? I suppose that’s why people live together while they’re engaged. What happens after the honeymoon’s over? How do we adjust to being part of each other’s worlds, but not the center?”

Peter stared at her. “Will we even have a honeymoon period?” he asked. “Will you ever be so absorbed in me that you forget everything else?”

Ruby went still. “Peter. Why are you asking me that?”

“Because when you see Lacey, your face lights up. You smile with your eyes. You forget dates with me when you’re with her, but you never forget plans you’ve made with her when you’re with me.”

Ruby grimaced. She couldn't say it wasn't true. “It’s the novelty,” she said. “I haven’t seen her for ten years. Let me have a little time to get used to her being back.”

“Let you have your honeymoon?” Peter smiled, but it was bitter.

Ruby recoiled, the words like a slap. They’d been married for not quite two weeks. If it had been real… if it had been real no one would have been questioning the way she looked at Lacey, the amount of time they were spending together. But it wasn’t real.

Marrying Peter had never felt real. She’d hoped it would start to, that she’d start to feel all the things she was supposed to feel. But it wasn’t working.

This wasn’t working.

But Ruby didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

* * *

From her small back room, which was almost starting to feel like a place she was comfortable, Lacey heard the thunder of Ruby coming down the stairs. She was ready to go, and Lacey picked up her bag and started out to meet her in the foyer. But before she reached it, she heard Granny call out from the landing.

"Where are you heading in such a rush, girl?"

"Shopping?" Ruby's voice resounded clearly through the hall. "Lacey's taking me dress shopping. I need something killer to wear to the reunion."

Granny scoffed audibly. “Your wife is taking you shopping for a dress for a date with your fiancé.”

A shiver ran down Lacey's spine and she wrapped her arms around her twisting stomach. Granny was the only one who used the word 'wife.' Every time, it made her feel like her world had turned upside down.

“You know it's not like that.” Ruby protested. “My best friend is taking me dress shopping. What is wrong with that?”

“Your soon to be ex-wife? Nope, can’t see a thing wrong with that. Just… don’t let her in the dressing room with you. That might go badly.”

“I’m not going to jump her!”

Granny just humphed, and Lacey heard her stump up the stairs and away.

Lacey leaned against the wall and wished this whole situation wasn't such a mess.

Carefully, awkwardly, they both took Ruby's grandmother's advice. It was only awkward because in high school they had had no compunctions stripping down in front of each other, checking the fit of waistbands with a hand down the skirt, or even adjusting the topography of a bra. And Lacey couldn't help thinking about that: Ruby, lanky and skinny, all knees and elbows and clavicle, but already a looker. Now, though Lacey only saw her fully clothed, she could tell how the straight lines had turned to curves, how she'd filled out into a woman.

Lacey had to shake herself every time Ruby disappeared back into the dressing room so she could give an accurate and honest evaluation of the outfits without her feelings getting in the way, even if she did think that Ruby's effort to be a complete knockout so that Peter could look good in front of his classmates was unnecessary. Ruby was always a knockout. She didn't need to try.

“Hey, Lacey, can you help me out of this?”

Lacey glanced up from the magazine she’d been flipping through, and stood, setting down the magazine on the chair. The last dress had been short and red, off the shoulders, and Ruby had probably gotten her hair stuck in the zipper.

Lacey pushed open the curtain and stopped.

She’d seen Ruby nearly naked in high school plenty of times, and well, naked at least once, though she didn’t remember it. But right now, dress partially open, slipping down her bare, smooth shoulders, long legs stretching down from the brief skirt, tanned and strong and barefoot, like some kind of wilding, she was gorgeous.

Lacey's face flushed, and felt a low flame light up in her gut.

“Lacey?”

Lacey realized she’d been staring and stepped forward. “Got this,” she said, reaching out to tug apart the zipper. Her fingers brushed against warm flesh, and suddenly, she found herself wishing desperately that she remembered their encounter, because, at least if she remembered what it was like to touch her, she wouldn’t be wishing she could repeat the experience, just to know what it was like.

“Um...”

Lacey flinched. She had unzipped the dress and was just standing there, holding it half closed, staring at the skin on her back. “Sorry,” she dropped the dress and fled out the curtain. She felt Ruby turning to frown at her, but didn’t look back. She went straight to the rack. “Hey, this one’s nice. Try it next.”

“Okay.”

“And lets go drinking after this, okay? I need a cocktail.”

But maybe only two. Because if she got too blitzed and tried to kiss Ruby or worse, banged her again just to see what it was like, and then left anyway...

Well that, that would be unforgivable, and she had too many unforgivable sins on her soul already.

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

The entrance to the Rabbit Hole was nearly unrecognizable, decked in streamers with lanterns and sparkly ribbon. Ruby could spot Mary Margaret's touch anywhere. Peter, half slouched in his only suit, stood out in front of it, waiting for her.

She walked up to him, careful of her heels on the cracking sidewalk. He looked up and his eyes widened when he saw her.

“You look beautiful.”

Ruby took a breath and offered him a smile. In the end she'd picked a short red dress covered over by a black lace shift. There had been something about the way Lacey's eyes had changed when she'd modeled it, and the way she'd stayed silent and just nodded when Ruby said she thought it was the one. There had been a slight tension in her face, a flicker of restraint in her jaw, as if she was angry about it. And Ruby didn't understand why that would be the case, but it was something at least, it made her feel _something_.

(All she wanted from Lacey was all her attention and every scrap of affection she could spare. Nothing much, right?)

“Peter, Ruby, welcome.”

Regina, ex-valedictorian, student council president, and national dressage finalist, stood next to the table. She'd driven in from Boston to run the show, and Mary Margaret was relegated to her second, sitting behind the table, hunting through the boxes and making notes on the clipboard. Regina was gorgeous in slinky black, and snapped her fingers at Mary Margaret who quickly checked Peter's name off the list and gave them their name badges. Mary Margaret squeezed Ruby's hand as she passed them over and gave her outfit an impressed look.

“Hey, Regina,” Peter said, sounding slightly cowed. “Heard you're a hotshot lawyer in Boston.”

Regina shrugged. “I'm thinking of making a change. Perhaps politics. Though something with more regular hours would be better for my son.”

Ruby gaped. “You have a son?”

And then, even more unexpectedly, Regina smiled. She flipped open a small album and showed them both a young boy with dark hair and eyes, very well pressed and charming.

“Where is he tonight?” Ruby asked. “With your...”

“Husband?” Regina raised an eyebrow and offered a half-smirk. “I'm not married. I do feel that husbands are unnecessary impediments to a well-ordered life.”

Ruby wanted to laugh. “Really?”

“Indeed.” Regina gave them both a rather smug smile. “I hear you're engaged.”

“Well,” Ruby offered. “Not all of us are so good at organizing our lives.”

Peter looked uncomfortable and tugged Ruby through the door into the bar. He quickly found his old friends and was trading grins and handslaps.

“Finally scored our Ruby,” James said with a smirk. “Sweet. Girls that have been around the block a time or two have gotta know a few tricks.”

Ruby let her hands tighten into fists and tried not to let her annoyance show on her face. Losers in high school were still losers ten years later. She let her eyes drift over to the bar, and then felt herself smile.

“Peter,” she said. “Do you want a drink?”

“Sure. IPA?”

Ruby slipped away and slid up against the bar where Lacey was busy mixing a sex on the beach for an impossibly idiotic ex-football player. She turned and saw Ruby and her eyes warmed and her mouth spread into a grin. “Hey you,” Lacey gave her a once-over. “Looking good.”

“You too.” And she was. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her eye-makeup dark, and her blue tank-dress was low cut enough to make it difficult to look away from her cleavage.

“Well,” Lacey gave an overdramatic sigh. “As I've already been hit on by about ten guys I knew from high school, and really never wanted to see again, I can't doubt that.”

Ruby grinned. “You're always gorgeous. And I've seen you puking.”

“Flatterer.” Lacey looked a little more pink-cheeked than usual, and she quickly reached for a fresh glass. “Can I get you anything?”

“An IPA and… you got any more specials up your sleeve?”

Lacey grinned. “Just you wait.”

* * *

There really were way too many guys hitting on her, and that was before they realized who she was. Far too quickly, Lacey was surrounded by a group of about fifteen guys and the occasional very annoyed wife. Honestly, she'd have been happier if they had been criticizing her for her life choices. How did you end up working the bar at a high school reunion for the year above you at _your own_ high school? You had to have messed something up.

But none of them cared what she'd done in the interim. It was like they'd always expected her to end up here, back at another high school party, still the same Lacey, hot, fun and easy. She'd never had a chance in their minds to make something of herself, to be someone they had to respect.

The worst thing was realizing she'd slept with at least half of them. The memories turned her stomach. Goddamn Killian for coming down with a stomach bug – that she highly suspected was a hangover – and leaving her to cover the reunion.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Mary Margaret stared at her, a hot flush turning the tops of her cheeks crimson.

Lacey shut her eyes. Worse and worse. “Look, Killian's sick. I'm filling in.”

“Are you enjoying this?” Mary Margaret snapped, taking the cosmo that Lacey had made and glaring. “Everyone's all over you already.”

Lacey pressed her lips together and gave Mary Margaret's outfit a long look. “Maybe,” she said, “If you wanted them to be all over you, you shouldn't have worn _that_.”

Mary Margaret knocked back the drink and then took one of the glasses of wine sitting on the tray Lacey was planning to run out to the wine table in a minute and finished that too. “You're not better than me.”

“I never said I was.”

She'd never said she wanted everyone's attention either. If she'd worried even a little over her make up, it wasn't for their sake. There was only one person here whose opinion mattered. It definitely wasn't Mary Margaret's.

Lacey forced smiles, deflected advances, and poured drinks. In the few breaks, she found herself watching Ruby, leaning on Peter's arm, smiling and playing the perfect fiancée. She watched Mary Margaret smile and try to make conversation with the most single looking men and get shot down every time.

An ex-soccer star leaned on the bar and smiled at Lacey. “Hey you, long time no see. I'm in town for a couple of days. Maybe I could get your number and we could meet up?”

“Sorry,” Lacey said absently, not even looking at him, looking at Ruby. “I'm married.”

“What?”

The shock in his voice made Lacey suddenly start to pay attention to what she'd said. It hadn't been the usual flirtatious 'probably not but still tip me' lines that she could spit out without thinking.

“You're _married_?”

Lacey felt herself start to flush. “I said I'm not interested. _Really_ _._ I don't want to relive any of my high school days.”

“So you're not married?”

Lacey shut her eyes. It was supposed to be easy to lie about this. But she didn't want to lie. “No,” she said. “I am.”

“You're not wearing a ring.”

Lacey shrugged. “You don't have to have a ring to be married. You just make a promise.”

“Huh,” the guy said. “You've changed since high school.”

Lacey looked at him and laughed. “That's good. At least one of us has.”

* * *

Mary Margaret hated this. Regina had swanned in with her successful air of competence and taken everything over. She would get all the credit, though Mary Margaret had done all the work. Lacey was here, pouring drinks and getting flirted with by every single guy and most of the ones with dates. And no one was talking to Mary Margaret.

Even Ruby had gained her ire. It wasn't fair – Ruby had Peter, lovesick over her, and Lacey, confused and definitely not a catch, but obsessed enough to marry her, and Mary Margaret had no one. She'd never had anyone. It was all Lacey's fault.

“Hi Neal,” Mary Margaret said to one of the guys who had been a dorky chess-club member back in the day. He still looked dorky, but he'd filled out well.

“Hey,” Neal grinned. “It's Hairy Mary, isn't it?”

Mary Margaret froze.

The wine table was her only refuge.

* * *

The yearbook photo slideshow came on, and Lacey groaned as her bar was assaulted by humiliated students needing a dose of liquid courage to face their high-school incarnations.

“And where are they now?” Regina smiled, introducing the next set of slides, showing old yearbook photos of each student paired with whatever newer photographs they'd sent in.

“Here's August – remember the nerdy journalist for the Storybrooke Sun? Now, he's still a nerdy journalist, but he rides a motorcycle.”

Lacey needed a drink herself. It seemed that ninety percent of the class was married, showing off pictures of their attractive spouses and crawling spawn. They were one year older than her, and they had lives and jobs and looked happy. Maybe it was bullshit, but she was jealous. They hadn't fucked up their own lives. They hadn't fallen at the first bar.

She couldn't _not_ look at Ruby. It wasn't fair that she was so stupidly attractive. And every time Ruby looked back, smiled at her, made a playfully horrified face, a warm flush ran through Lacey's chest, and she could hardly bear it. Maybe marrying her had been a complete accident, but who was to say that it was the wrong decision?

Who was to say that it wasn't a gift she would never be good enough to deserve?

* * *

Ruby could feel Lacey's eyes on her. It was like a sixth sense, and as she played the perfect girlfriend, she had never been so aware of playing a part. She didn't like Peter's old friends. She didn't like the way they sized her up, made remarks about her past hookups, the way the women just assumed that she wanted all the babies and houses and everything normal.

“Peter,” one of his buds elbowed him. “It's you.”

They looked up to the slide show. “Peter Shepard, a little shy in high school, but a master in autoshop, now a mechanic, and engaged to Class of 2004, leggy bombshell, Ruby Lucas.”

“No!”

Ruby looked around. Mary Margaret, swaying and red-faced, was pushing her way to the stage.

“No!” She repeated. “It's not true!”

Regina was looking annoyed, but when Mary Margaret staggered up the steps and grasped the microphone, Regina stepped away, grimacing.

“I'm sorry, Peter,” Mary Margaret agonized. “You're living a _lie_. But it's not your fault. It's Lacey French's fault!” She pointed, and the room turned to look at the girl behind the bar. Lacey carefully put down her glass, and she glanced toward Ruby. Ruby caught her eye and the look Lacey offered was just as confused as Ruby felt.

“Everything is Lacey French's fault! Everything! This was supposed to be my chance! But she's here and she ruined it, just like she ruined high school for me!”

Ruby covered her eyes. They had ruined high school for Mary Margaret, and honestly, it really wasn't all Lacey's fault. Ruby had played the rumor mill too, though perhaps with less vindictiveness.

“She told all the boys that I didn’t shave my legs and never changed my underwear! I never got a date in all four years!”

And… there it was.

“But you all don't know her! You don't know a thing about her! You think she's so hot and available and perfect – but look at her! Tending bar in _Storybrooke!_ And better yet, we all know she's a slut, but now she's a big gay slut! Because she married Ruby Lucas in Vegas three weeks ago, only no one is supposed to know!”

The sudden silence at that was more than Ruby could bear. Peter dropped her arm, then turned, staring at her.

“Lacey?” he asked. “ _Lacey_ is the one you married in Vegas?”

Ruby could feel everyone's eyes on her. She couldn't breathe. Dammit, dammit. Carefully, her head hardly moving at all, she nodded once.

“And you're in love with her.”

There was one more short nod.

“I never had a chance with you at all, did I? I was never going to be anything but second best.” Peter turned, face red, hands balled into fists.

"You fucking, _dyke_!" He kicked over a table, sending wine glasses shattering on the floor, and then he ran.

Up on the stage, Mary Margaret passed out.

Ruby turned to find Lacey, but the space behind the bar was empty. She was gone. Peter was gone. Lacey was gone. Ruby's eyes stung with tears. She heard people beginning to gather around her, start to ask her questions. Firmly, she clenched her hands until the knuckles went white and lifted her chin.

“Yes,” she said. “Lacey and I got married. No, we weren't in some secret open relationship in high school. No, I'm not ashamed of being married to her. And _no,_ we are _not_ open to threesomes.”

Ruby gave the last guy a dirty look and walked out. Dignity, that was the important thing. Dignity.

She could cry in her room. She wouldn't cry until she got to her room.

* * *

Deputy Swan walked into the Rabbit Hole and surveyed the carnage. Deputy Fa was already hustling a few drunk-and-disorderlies to the station to sleep it off. Spotting a well-dressed woman organizing the clean up, she went over.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you all good here now?”

The woman looked at her, and Emma immediately regretted her casual speech. She straightened up. “I'm Deputy Swan,” she said. “Just here to make sure you've got things under control.”

The woman pressed her lips together, giving a wry expression that wasn't quite a smile. “Regina Mills,” she said, offering her hand to shake. “President of the reunion committee. I'm afraid I hadn't planned on our opening social being quite so dramatic.” Then she put a hand on Emma's arm and guided her toward the stage. “I don't suppose you could do anything about this one? She overindulged.”

“Shit,” Emma said. “MnM.”

“You know her?”

Emma grinned awkwardly up at the woman. “She's my roommate. I can take her off your hands.”

Regina looked surprised. “Your roommate? Then I suppose you are acquainted with Ruby Lucas, and Lacey French as well.”

“Yes….” Emma said, suddenly suspicious. “What did happen here tonight?”

“My second in command, unfortunately, took it upon herself to out our two underclassmen and reveal the nature of their relationship. Miss Lucas's fiancé took it rather hard and destroyed the table. Then Miss French fled the scene, leaving the bar unguarded, and the rioting began.”

“Oh my god.” Emma put a hand to her forehead. “What did you _do_ , Mary Margaret?”

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

The sound of pebbles flicking off her window was too familiar to ignore. Ruby went to the window and lifted the sash. In the yellow light from the streetlamp, she could make out the small huddled figure of Lacey under her tree, looking up at her.

“You live in this house,” Ruby said.

“I know.” Lacey looked down. “I just,” she looked back up. “I thought having a good twenty vertical feet between us would be good for this conversation.”

Ruby sighed, leaning on the windowsill. “Gonna let me down easy?” She hadn't wanted this. She'd just been happy having her friend back. But now the whole world knew they were married. And that meant it had to be dealt with. They had to talk about it, and there was only one way it was going to go.

Lacey didn't say anything for a long time. “Look,” she said finally. “I'd never thought of you like that before, never thought of being attracted to you. It threw me."

"I get it." Ruby swallowed down the lump in her throat, wanting to shut the window on this conversation, wanting to go back to the safe little cave of not talking about it and therefore not forcing it to change.

"No! No you don't get it! Because every time you turn around, even _more_ beautiful than you were in high school, if that's even possible, it throws me again. And even without that, I know I love you. I've always loved you, even if it came as a pretty big shock at first. But it doesn't matter."

Lacey shook her head, loose tendrils of hair lashing her face.

"I was spending so much time trying to work out if I wanted you, if I loved you, that I forgot the real truth.

"I'm no good. I wouldn't be any good for you. I'm sorry I ruined your relationship with Peter, I'm sorry I messed things up and got you outed, I'm so sorry I have to hurt you like this. It all sucks. But I can't… I can't be with you. I am who I am." Lacey dropped her head, her hair falling forward to shadow her face. "I've ruined enough things. It's time for me to go.”

"Wait." Ruby stared down at her, her face flushing in unexpected anger. “You're just going to leave?"

A small nod of Lacey's head was the only response.

Ruby's hands gripped the bottom of the windowsill, holding tight, holding _on_. "You come here tonight to tell me you love me, you're attracted to me, and then you think it's enough to say you're no good and walk away? That isn't good enough!”

“Ruby! You don't know what I am. I wouldn't be good for you.”

“How can you _know_ that?”

“Because I know what I am!”

“Well, what _are_ you?”

Lacey went silent. Ruby shut her eyes. “Just tell me.”

“I don't want to,” Lacey said weakly. “It's selfish, but as long as you don't know who I am, you don't hate me. If you knew, you wouldn't love me anymore.”

“Lacey, please." Ruby hesitated. There was one question she really wanted an answer to. And she feared it was linked to this. "Why did you disappear? I stopped talking to you, but… why'd you stop talking to me?”

Lacey's shape against the tree seemed to shrink into an even smaller ball. “I don't…”

“Goddammit, Lacey. Get _up_ here. Or I'm coming down. I can't deal with this. You married me. You remember that, right? You were the one who said it first, who promised that you would stick by me, and if you can't even tell me the truth—”

"I was ashamed!" Lacey yelled up at her. "I did things, I..." She looked away. "I flunked out. I failed all my classes first semester and the school kicked me out.”

Ruby stared down. “How?” she asked. “You were… you got straight As in high school without even making an effort.”

Lacey didn't look up, just stayed staring at her toes. “No reason,” she said.

Ruby felt a sickening in her stomach. “You won’t tell me?”

“I don’t…” Lacey shook her head, looking away. “You were the one who said that it was hard to deal with the fact that we don’t know each other anymore. We used to know everything about each other, but we don’t now. And if I tell you, it won’t change that, you’ll just know how much we really don’t know each other.”

She made a small sound that was too much like a sob to be comforting, and Ruby clenched the windowsill, hating this twenty vertical feet of separation.

“I'm being selfish,” Lacey said, her voice rough. “I've always been selfish, though. And now I'm being even worse. I don't want to tell you, because I want you to love me. But I won't love you back. And yet I'm _happy_ that Peter found out, that he's giving up on you. I want you to break up. I want you to be single and pining after me. I don't want you to be happy, I want you to be _mine_."

And that was a punch as well, because she didn't have to want it. It would always be true.

"I know I'm a terrible person. I always have been. And besides some small last gasp at dignity, you are the only thing in my life that makes me want to be better. But I'm not better, and I just… I don't want you to lose all respect for me.”

“Lacey…” Ruby couldn't just let her stand there, crying. She swung out of her window and clambered down the tree. She dropped the last few feet, landed, and reached out.

Lacey jerked away, evading her touch, and Ruby pulled back, keeping her hands to herself. She crossed her arms.

“Just tell me, okay? Just tell me. I'm not going to promise that nothing will change, because I don't want to say something comforting and have it turn out to be a lie. I know I said we don't know each other anymore. But… you know me. You know that I cracked because I couldn't deal with being in love with you, that I've made a fucking mess out of my life, that I'm here, in Storybrooke, working as a waitress, dating a guy who's nothing to me because I'm scared of taking risks. I'm scared of losing things and people. And I'm mostly scared of trying and then finding out I'm not good enough. You know who I am now, and I'm not the girl I used to be. But you haven't treated me different. You haven't seen me as anyone other than Ruby. Can't you give me a chance to try to do the same? Who are you?”

“Look at you,” Lacey sighed out a tired, unhappy breath. “You're still, always, better than me. You face things. You can see yourself. The first time I saw you, in fucking middle school, I looked at you, and I _knew_ that you were better than me. You were everything I tried to be without even trying at all. So I figured I'd co-opt you. Because having you as an ally was better than having you as an enemy. And I dragged you into all sorts of terrible stuff. I did everything I could to corrupt you. And yet, in the end, you were the one who corrupted me. I'd never questioned the things I did before. I never felt ashamed or bad about hurting people. My father never did, why should I? But you— I couldn't help questioning myself around you. Because you liked me, you were my friend, and I didn't know _why_ _._ Why would someone like you care about an asshole like me?”

“I'm not anything special, Lacey.”

Lacey shook her head. “You're special to me. I'm nothing but a wreck. But when you were around at least I tried to be better." She looked up, met Ruby's eyes, and her gaze was sharp and deadly serious. "At my first college party, someone gave me cocaine. It was… it was awesome. It was perfect, until I woke up the next morning, in a crash, reaching for the phone, wanting to call you, and then realizing I couldn't. How could I tell you about that, that I'd taken a step past E and weed and that even though I felt like a mess this morning, I'd probably do it again? Some people manage it, you know. I figured I'd wait to call you until I'd proven to myself that I didn't need it, that I wasn't an addict. I'd wait until you called me. But you didn't call me, and I couldn't manage it. You didn't _call_ me, and I went out looking for more.”

“Lacey...” Ruby stepped forward, catching her face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over her cheekbones. Lacey's eyes were sparklingly wet. She shook her head, pulling away from the touch.

“No, I'm making this sound like it's your fault. It's _not_. I could have called you. I should have called you. I shouldn't have drunk so much to not remember crossing that line and taking advantage of you. I should have known there was a reason you weren't talking to me and tried to fix it. But, fixing things with you, that wasn't easy. That was scary. What wasn't scary was snorting white powder up my nose until it bled. Trading sex for chemicals that made me feel good? Easy. And I didn't stop at cocaine. Come on, this is me, try-anything-once-Lacey, right? I forgot about classes. When I was all wrecked after the night before, how do you get up for an eight thirty anthro class? I flunked out. I got my dad to give me all my tuition money up front and I blew it all. It didn't even take me a year to end up in a fucking hovel shooting shit up my arm and whoring myself out to my dealer for more. I didn't want anything else, I didn't need anything else, and when my dealer got bored with me and I realized what I'd done with my life… I tried to kill myself.”

Ruby's hands shook. She got it now, why Lacey hadn't wanted to tell her. Ruby hadn't really wanted to know, know that she'd let go, and that the person she cared about most in the world, save perhaps her Granny, had slipped off the rails and plummeted, with nothing and no one to catch her.

“It was probably the best thing I could have done. Someone found me, bleeding out, and brought me to the hospital. The hospital put me straight into detox, and then to rehab, and,” Lacey laughed, as if it was absurd. “I was still on my dad's insurance. I was twenty years old, and I had thrown away everything, but I still had a safety net to catch me. Not everyone I knew there did. He didn't cut me off until he got the bill.”

“Lacey,” Ruby slipped her arms around her waist and drew her close. Lacey pressed her head against Ruby's shoulder. “I'm so sorry I lost you. I'm sorry I wasn't there—”

“ _No_." Lacey's hands closed tightly around her biceps and she pushed herself away to look her in the face. "I'm so glad you weren't there. I never want you to see me like that. I’ve done stupid things, I’ve made mistakes, and I know I always will, but I have never been that low, that untrustworthy. I would have used you and wrecked you. I would have betrayed you, because I would have betrayed anyone for that high."

“It took me a long time,” Lacey said, looking down, but leaving her hands clinging tightly to Ruby's arms. “to get to a place where I could face what I'd done, to accept how much I've hurt people. I had to remind myself every day, when I just wanted something to take the edge off, that I didn't deserve to be happy, to feel good. I stayed in bed a lot of days when I just couldn't face getting up. One of the parts of my program was to call, to apologize, and I called my dad, even. He hung up on me. But I couldn't call you. I pretended I hadn't hurt you when I went off the deep end. I knew it was a lie. But I was so scared to call you. I didn't want you to react with disgust, with disdain, to lose all respect for me by seeing me completely broken. But I didn't want to do _this_ either. I didn't want to lean on you and ask you to make everything better. Because that's what I did with the drugs. And you deserve more than that.”

“You don't need to apologize,” Ruby said.

“I abandoned you. And now that I know what I abandoned you to, I really do need to apologize.” Lacey stepped back, but she took her hands and pressed them tightly. “But this is why I need you to know I'm no good. I can't let you reach out to me when I know I will do nothing but damage you. I'm not asking for your love. I don't want you to try to fix me. And that's why I can't stay with you. I don't deserve to feel the way I do around you, especially if I know I'm just hurting you a little bit more every day.”

Ruby paused, and swallowed. “You know. I can forgive you for losing touch with me. I can forgive you for getting so drunk you forgot the thing that, well, that kind of changed my life. I can forgive you for nine years of silence. But… if you leave again, if you just walk away and disappear, knowing how much it would hurt me, I don't think I can forgive that. I can forgive you for not falling for me, for needing your space, for breaking my heart. But giving up on me? Putting me aside and leaving me behind again? No. I can't forgive that one.”

“But it's _hard_ ,” Lacey was crying, her voice sandpaper rough. “It's so hard to be a good person around you. It's hard to be stable and not rocket from elated to miserable every twenty minutes. It's hard to try and keep myself whole and not just eat you up, pull you inside of me, and use you like a drug. I hate this! I hate feeling like this, like all my balance relies on someone else, like I need to be able to trust, when I have never trusted anyone. And I can't breathe near you, and I don't want to hurt you, but it would be cleaner, just cut it _off_ , cut these feelings away. Cut out my stupid, useless, blackened heart.”

“ _No_ , Lacey.” Ruby reached out. She closed her hands around the shorter girl's shoulders and pulled her in. “Lacey...” One hand slid up her neck, cupping the back of her head, and she drew her in. Lacey half lurched into her and their mouths met roughly, more in a clash than a kiss. The release began a real kiss, and Ruby staggered back, hitting the tree, as Lacey pressed into her, all need and desperation. Ruby held her firmly, following up the press of lips with a light nip, then a kiss that turned open mouthed, so close that she could feel the wet streaks of Lacey's tears against her face.

And then it ended. Lacey's body was pressed flush against hers. She could feel the rise and fall of her chest, hear her rough breathing, feel it splash against her face. They stood in silence, present, waiting.

“I love you,” Lacey said. And then she was gone.

Ruby slid down the trunk of the tree to sit among the roots and try to remember how to breathe.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Mary Margaret was unhappy. She hunched over her coffee, blinking through the pounding headache and wishing she'd just died that night rather than had to face herself in the morning. Emma was being solicitous, and a little overly cheery. Apparently, while picking up Mary Margaret's limp, passed out body from her puddle of shame, she'd gotten a phone number.

“Hey.”

Mary Margaret looked up. She knew that voice. She knew that it was not a voice she was ready to hear for a long time. If ever. “Oh my god,” she said, putting her forehead on the table.

“Hey, MnM.” She heard a chair slide out and someone take a seat across from her. “Hangover?”

“Unmn,” Mary Margaret murmured unhappily. She lifted her head. Lacey was sitting across from her. She looked… not much better than Mary Margaret felt. Her eye makeup had turned into two raccoon-patches, and her face was pale and drawn. “I'm sorry,” Mary Margaret groaned. “I went too far.”

“Yeah,” Lacey sighed. “You shouldn't have outed Ruby like that. She didn't deserve it. But I did.”

Mary Margaret eyed her. Her head hurt too much to handle this right now.

“It's funny, because just like with Ruby, I thought that I didn't really need to make amends for the things I did before I started to spiral. But it turns out, that I've always been an asshole, and you bore the brunt of it in high school. I don't even have the excuse of addiction, or genetic predisposition, or anything. I just liked seeing someone suffer – someone that wasn't me. So it was you. I'm sorry.”

“You're _apologizing?_ ”

Lacey nodded. “I didn't always realize the extent of the harm I could do with just words. But you were right about me. I hurt the people around me, the ones I care about and the ones I don't. I know an apology won't make the things I did to you go away. But… how about a date?”

Mary Margaret stared at her blankly. “What?”

Lacey forced a smile, even though it looked nothing but broken. “You've still got two more days of reunion events,” she said.

“I can't show my face…”

Lacey shook her head. “Everyone was pretty drunk. And you only told the truth. So how about it? There's this sweet guy, who's really kind of into you, and he'd totally jump on a plane from Vegas to get here to take you to the reunion ball on Saturday night.”

Mary Margaret gaped at her. “What? You—”

“I called him, last night, after I realized what I needed to do. I need to make amends. That doesn't just mean saying I'm sorry. And since there's nothing I can do for Ruby, I can only try and spread some of my sorry around her roots.”

Mary Margaret perked up suddenly. This wasn't just an apology, this was a goodbye, wasn't it? “What did you do?”

“I told her everything. I told her I had to leave. She won't forgive me for that, But I have to.”

“Why?” Mary Margaret asked. “You… you're in love with her, aren't you?”

A half smile spread brokenly across Lacey's face. “How couldn't I be? She's Ruby. She's perfect. And she… she loves me back. But I'm not healthy enough to be in love right now. I'll only end up destroying the one perfect thing I've ever had.”

And this sounded somehow completely wrong. “Isn't walking away going to do the same thing?”

Lacey just shook her head slightly. “Take care of her, okay? She needs people like you.” She stood up and started for the door.

Mary Margaret shoved out her chair and staggered after her. “Wait! No! You can't do this! You can't just _leave!_ ”

Lacey glanced back. “What?”

But Mary Margaret was angry now. “You're _selfish_ aren't you? You come around, trying to fix things, trying to make up for ten years of neglect, and you think it's enough to make _me_ happy? Yes, high school sucked because of you, but it was high school. None of us are good people in high school. But Ruby, You _married her._ You promised that you'd be at her side. You ruined her life, and now you're going to walk away?”

Lacey froze. “I can't stay with her… It's too hard. It's so hard to try and be good for her, to be a good person. I don't think I can keep it up, not to be the sort of person she deserves.”

“Have you ever thought that that's what _you_ deserve?”

Lacey looked blank.

“You say you don't deserve her, and that she deserves someone better than you. But if you're so sorry, if you're trying to make amends, maybe you had better become that person. Working hard, every day, to be someone worthy of her love, isn't that a much harsher punishment than you can give yourself? And the stakes are pretty high, aren't they? No room to slip up.”

“But…”

“Are you afraid she might make you happy?”

Lacey slowly backed toward the door, her face strained with confusion and distress. “I'm not afraid.”

“Really?”

* * *

Ruby sat on the stoop outside of the diner staring at her hands. Granny had taken one look at her that morning and sent her away. “You're not fit to work at all,” she said. “Go sort out your baggage, girl. No one wants Mopey Mabel serving their morning coffee.”

“Can we talk?”

Ruby looked up and saw Peter. She breathed out slowly. “Sure.”

He stood in front of her, shoulders hunched, shifting from foot to foot, mouth tense, muscle flickering in his cheek, but looking only at the ground.

“You know,” he said, “I never could understand how you could accidentally marry someone. But now that I know who it is, it somehow makes sense.” He laughed, but it didn't sound amused. “I mean honestly, who accidentally runs the principal's underwear up the flagpole? Lacey. Who accidentally serves an entire party tainted weed so that everyone is talking about the paranoid hallucinations all week? Lacey. And I don't suppose you needed a lot of convincing to get ' _accidentally'_ married, since you always did love her more than me.”

Ruby sighed, but she didn't bother to deny it. It didn't matter how she should feel, it just mattered how she did feel. And he was right. Between the feelings she had for him and for Lacey, one set had a decibel level that just couldn't compare with the other. “It was an accident,” she said. “Just because we accidentally did something… something I'd never even let myself dream of being true didn't make it good. It didn't mean it was going to work out.”

“So you strung me along.”

“She left,” Ruby said. “She didn't want me. Being rejected like that–” She looked up.“You know how it feels. What would you do, if you had someone sweet and nice back home, just waiting for you to look at her? Are you going to tell me you wouldn't turn to her?”

Peter sighed. “I don't know. I've only ever felt this way about you.”

“And I've only ever felt this way about her.” Ruby looked down. “It sucks, doesn't it? It sucks so hard to be in love with someone who doesn't love you back.”

“Yes. It does.”

“And you think crazy things,” Ruby said, “Like, if she just pretended to love me, I'd be happy with that. If she just smiled at me every couple of days and never considered touching someone else, I'd be over the moon. But we're just bargaining with god.”

“You almost married me.”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, “And you would have figured out that I didn't love you enough, and we would have been miserable.”

Peter went still. “So it's really over now?” His shoulders rose slightly, arms tensing, hands balling into fists.

Had he really thought otherwise? Ruby carefully removed the ring from her finger and handed it back to him. “I'm not going to settle,” she said. “Maybe I'll never have what I really want, but settling is just hurting the people around me. I'm going to try to find something I really want, not just something I think I'd be okay with having.”

“You're a _bitch_.”

Ruby looked up, startled by the bitterness in his voice but not surprised. “You knew that when you asked me out. Maybe you pretended otherwise, but Lacey and I weren't best friends on accident. You put me on a pedestal. Lacey, goddamn her, puts me on a pedestal. But I'm not a nice girl. I never was.”

Peter's raised his hand. It was bunched into a fist. He looked like he might actually take a swing at her. Ruby didn't care. It would be a relief, really. If he punched her then she'd never regret cutting him loose.

“Step away from my granddaughter,” came a voice from behind her. Her Granny was there, a rifle under her arm. “I know about you young men who think you are god's gift to the world, who think you deserve girls falling all over you, because you're the nice guy, the one who waits around, who sympathizes. But guess what – no one gets what they deserve in this life. You get what you get. And you got kicked to the curb. So take your fists and your anger and your righteousness, and go, or I'll shoot. And I'll aim for your dongle. Try romancing a lady with nothing between your legs, boy. Just try it.”

Peter went red in the face and looked even more furious. But he turned and he left.

“Granny,” Ruby turned and looked at her. “Was that really necessary?”

Granny raised an eyebrow. “Maybe, maybe not. But you laid him down hard, and some boys don't like hearing no. Better safe than sorry.”

Ruby breathed out. “You're probably right,” she said. “Granny,” she shut her eyes. “I don't think I can stay here.”

“Well, what are you waiting around for?”

Ruby blinked. “What?”

“Look, it's been lovely having you. But after that little scare, I've got my health again.” Granny set down the rifle and poked her in the chest. “I don't _need_ you. And if I do, I can use a goddamn phone. So go out. Live your life. Having you hanging around waiting for me to die is really cramping my style.”

An unexpected burst of laughter emerged from Ruby. “Really?”

Granny swatted her. “Yes, really. Get out of here. Do something with your youth. You fail at all the things you never try.”

“Right,” Ruby said. “ _Right_.”

* * *

Lacey left Mary Margaret and Emma's house, trying to remember what she was doing, what the plan was. It had sounded good, what Mary Margaret had said. It had sounded too good – like having her cake and eating it too. And Lacey knew about things that sounded too good.

She walked down the street toward the bus station where she'd stashed her bag. It was time to go, and if she found a bus heading far enough away, maybe she could catch a little sleep.

Outside the bus station was a jewelry store. Lacey stopped and stood there, staring into the window.

Fuck.

* * *

She could hear Ruby moving around in her room, and when she peeked in, she could see a huge pile of clothing on her bed. Lacey waited in the doorway and watched as Ruby went about her life without her, not seeming to be bothered by everything that had happened the night before, pulling out a suitcase, stacking shirts and skirts and jeans. Was she… packing? For what? A chilling feeling settled in her stomach. Had she decided to elope with Peter?

“What are you doing?”

Ruby looked up, mouth opening in surprise. “I thought.. I thought you had left. Your stuff was gone.”

Lacey shrugged. “Yeah, well. I left, but I didn't pick anywhere to go.” She settled on the bed, next to the clothes. “But you're packing. Why?”

Ruby looked at her, and finally, she didn't look fine. She looked tired and she hadn't put any make-up on. She was still beautiful, and Lacey felt that tug that made her hurt with the need to hold her. Ruby offered a tight smile. “I'm taking off. I need to get out of Storybrooke.”

“Oh.” Lacey pulled up her knees to her chest.

Ruby looked down at her hands. “I need to do something for me. I need to not _settle_. It'll be rough at first, finding a place to stay, finding a job. But it's not like there aren't always openings for waitresses. And then I can look for something better. Work my way up.”

Lacey couldn't think of anything to say. Ruby sounded healthy, in control, hopeful in a way she hadn't seen since they'd met again.

“What about you?”

Lacey looked up at the question, confused. “Huh?”

Ruby looked over. “What's your plan? Where are you going from here?”

Lacey stilled. “I… I thought I’d hop a bus to Boston,” she said. “Maybe New York or Philly after that. Just, go back to living my life.”

“Is that enough?” Ruby met her eyes, and her gaze was fierce. “What do you want? Are you just going to tend bar and scrape by? Are you going to pursue anything?”

Lacey's mouth tightened. “Pursue what? I haven’t even finished college!”

Ruby paused. “Do you want to?”

The way she said it made it sound possible, like she could just reach out and take it if she bothered to try. Lacey looked away. “I dunno.”

“Lacey,” Ruby said softly. “Do you want to?”

“Of course I want to,” Lacey said. “I flunked out first semester. I never even got a chance to take a good class. Or a shitty class. I never had a chance.”

“Maybe you should take one.”

Lacey stared at her, at the slight hardness in her voice, at the obvious hurt. “Maybe I will,” she said. She almost believed it. If Ruby was watching, she _did_ believe it.

Ruby's eyes widened, just slightly. She looked surprised.

Lacey forced a smile. The lump in her pocket matched the one in her throat. “You know,” she said. “If you're leaving town and I'm leaving town, what would you think about us leaving town together?”

Ruby's hands went limp. The shirt she was folding fell from her fingers. She turned her head. “What are you saying?”

Lacey took a deep breath. “I'm a mess,” she said. “You know that now. You know exactly how and why and when I'm a mess. And the last thing I want to do is put it on you. But I want to be better. I want to be good enough. And I'm _scared_.” She felt her eyes sting and hated herself for being this weak, being this weepy. She reached into her pocket. “I'm scared but I love you, and I can't let this go. So what do you say?”

She opened the box and offered it to Ruby.

“Leave town with me? Honestly, I haven't even bothered to figure out how to get an annulment yet, so why don't we just forget it? Just, take it easy? See if this can work?”

Ruby was staring at the box, something like horror on her face. “You… you got me a ring?”

“We _are_ married.”

“You got me a ring with a _wolf_ on it?” Ruby put her hand up, covering her face, laughing.

“What? You like wolves.”

Ruby sank onto the bed and curled into herself, still laughing. Then she was hiccuping a little, as if she was going to start to cry.

This was not a clear response.

“You're going to give me a complex!”

“You already have enough complexes!” Ruby snatched the box out of her hand. “And you got me a wolf ring. What are you? Ten?”

She was biting her lip and tugging the ring out of the box and starting to slide it onto her finger. Lacey caught her hands. “So, yes? You're saying yes?”

Ruby looked at her, eyes warm and intense. “I already married you, idiot. And if you're seriously willing to give this a shot…”

Lacey gently eased the ring onto her finger, and then she reached up and cupped Ruby's face. “Yes,” she said. “I'm willing to give this a shot.”

“Then yes. I'm saying yes.” Ruby was grinning like an idiot.

And Lacey leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for epilogue stuff!


End file.
